Hannah spent most of the day calming herself down. It helped that Adam called Beth and the three of them had an hour-long conference call. Beth assured them that they could work through this. She’s dealt with children who have seen all sorts of things, including porn. She’s also managed cases where the children have heard much worse than what Alicia heard this morning. The bottom line, Beth said, is that Alicia is loved, and if children are loved and cared for, and they know that, the other things can be worked through.
At five to three, Sam drops his backpack a few feet from the front door and barrels into the kitchen.
“Mom,” he yells. “I got a hundred on my spelling test.”
“Well, that deserves a treat. How about a brownie?” She made them for Alicia, to reward her for going to school after such a tough morning. But Sam could use one as well.
“Yay,” he shouts, and hops on a stool. She gives him a brownie and a glass of milk.
Adam is leaving work early. They’re going to sit with the children and have a talk before dinner. It won’t be a long, detailed lecture; rather they will explain that sex should be a beautiful, intimate act, not something you should watch other people doing. The hypocrisy of some of the things they plan to say isn’t lost on Hannah. But she will do everything in her power to ensure Sam doesn’t become a sex addict. With the explosion of accessible, anonymous Internet porn, she can’t afford to shy away from these difficult conversations.
She watches Sam practically stuff the whole brownie in his mouth, then looks beyond him, expecting to see Alicia. She’s not there. More than likely, she went to hide in her room. After everything that happened this morning, it’s understandable.
“Looks like you need another one,” Hannah tells Sam. He gulps down some milk and grins.
“I’m going to get your sister, and we’re going to water the garden. No TV or video games on the computer when I’m gone.”
“Why?”
“It’s a beautiful day outside.”
She heads to Alicia’s room. Surprisingly, the door is open.
“Alicia,” she calls, “I made brownies.”
Hannah walks in. The bed is ruffled from the morning, and although there are lumps, none seem big enough to be Alicia. Still, Hannah runs her hand along the comforter as she looks around the room.
“Alicia,” she calls. Her heart beats a little harder as she walks to the closet. The idea that Alicia may be curled up in some fetal ball is disturbing. But she’s not in the closet either. She checks the bathroom, the den, her bedroom, Sam’s, the guest room, the other bathrooms, and finally the laundry room. She must be outside.
“Come on,” Hannah tells Sam. “Let’s go to the garden.”
Alicia isn’t there either.
“Sam?” Hannah asks. “Do you know where your sister might be?”
He has already turned on the hose and is pointing it at her.
“Turn that off,” she shouts.
He blasts her face with cold water.
“Damn it, Sam.” She marches over to turn off the tap, then grabs his arm, giving him a good shake.
“I thought we were watering,” he whines.
“Do I look like a garden?”
He lowers his head. “No.”
“Have you seen your sister?” she asks.
“Nope.”
“Where did she go when you came home?”
“Dunno.”
“Think. Did she go to her room? The living room? Which way?”
“She wasn’t on the bus.” He’s distracted by a fly buzzing around his head.
“She wasn’t on the bus?” Hannah asks.
He pulls up his shoulders so they’re close to his ears. “I don’t think so.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“She wasn’t on the bus this morning either.” He looks like he’s about to cry.
“You’re right, she wasn’t. And it’s not your job to watch her. But are you sure she wasn’t on the bus this afternoon?”
He nods timidly, and she feels guilty for being so snappy.
She checks her pockets for her cell phone. It’s not there. She left it in her room. Alicia has probably been trying to call. Hannah runs inside. There are two new text messages. The first one is from Adam.
Just checking in. How are you?
The next one is from Bridget.
Can we talk?
Hannah calls the school.
“Pine Hill Elementary, may I help you?”
“Yes, hi. This is Hannah Jenkins. My daughter, Alicia, missed the bus. Is she in the office?”
“No. I don’t see her here.”
“Well, could she be around there? Maybe waiting at the front of the building?”
“I can’t see the front of the building from here, but if you’d like, I’ll check around and call you back.”
“Yes, thank you. That would be wonderful. My number is—”
“I have it here. It came up on caller ID.”
“Right. Thanks.” Hannah hangs up, not wanting to waste an extra second when the secretary could be out checking. Poor Alicia. She must be panicked. After a couple minutes, Hannah can’t stand the wait.
“Sam, we’re going to drive to the school and find Alicia.” She hustles him to her SUV.
Slowing down is the most she can manage at the stop signs. She peels into the school parking lot and pulls in front of the entrance. As she hops out of the car, she thinks of Bridget. She’ll call her as soon as she has Alicia.
“Out you go,” she tells Sam, and races into the building with him.
The secretary, she assumes the one she just spoke with, is staring at her computer.
“Hi, I’m here to pick up Alicia.”
“Oh.” She turns. “I was just going to call you. I couldn’t find her.”
“Did you check the bathrooms?”
“Uh … no, actually. I thought she probably went home with a friend.”
There’s no time for a discussion of what Alicia may or may not have done. Hannah grabs Sam’s hand and tears into the girls’ room.
“Mom,” Sam screams. “I can’t come in here.”
“Jesus, Sam. You scared me. It’s fine. We’re just looking for Alicia.”
She pushes open every stall door. No one is in the girls’ room. She races down the hall to the next bathroom. When she’s checked them all, she looks in the boys’ rooms, then goes back to the office. The secretary is packing up to leave.
“I can’t find her,” Hannah says.
“Did you try her friends?”
“I’d know if she was going to a friend’s house.”
“Maybe she forgot to tell you. It happens all the time.”
Possibly. But peeing on the bathroom floor doesn’t happen all the time, nor does hearing your mother say maybe you shouldn’t have been born. She yanks Sam’s hand and runs back to the entrance. No Alicia. She checks the playground. There are a couple of children with their parents. No Alicia.
She drags Sam back to the car.
“When was the last time you saw her?” she asks him.
“Um…” He pulls the seatbelt strap across his chest. “This morning, I guess.”
“Can you just take a deep breath, close your eyes, and think really hard?”
He does what she tells him.
“What do you see?”
“My castle Legos.”
“Just focus on Alicia. Then tell me what you see.”
He shrugs. “Nothing.”
Hannah feels like bursting into tears. She calls Adam.
“What’s up?” he answers.
“Alicia didn’t come home from school.”
“Slow down. I’m sure she’s fine. She probably just missed the bus.”
“No. She’s not fine. She didn’t miss the bus. I’m at the school, and she’s not here, and no one has seen her. I’m calling the police.”
“Hang on. Let’s just think for a second. Did you call her friends?”
“I would know if she went to a friend’s,” she shouts.
“Let’s just try a few before we call the police. Do you have their numbers?”
“Of course,” she snaps.
“I’m leaving the office right now. Call as many people as you have numbers for. I’m sure we’ll find her.”
“I don’t know if I should stay at the school or go home.”
“Go home. She might have tried to walk there. I’m on my way out. Drive the route you think she might take, and I’ll meet you in about half an hour.”
She hangs up and calls all the friends’ numbers in her phone. No one has seen Alicia. She drives two miles an hour down the side streets. There are no young girls with blond hair. At home, she pulls out Alicia’s class list. She calls all the numbers that she hasn’t already tried. Mostly she gets voice mail. The few people who answer haven’t seen Alicia. Two of them don’t even know who she is.
Hannah runs to her bedroom and grabs a recent photograph of Alicia and Sam at the beach. She doesn’t know what the rules or laws are, but she can’t wait at home. The police have to help her.
Just as she’s about to bolt, Adam walks in.