I spend all the next day wondering what will happen when Dan talks to the police. He has to call them, doesn’t he? But one thing we know now is that Sarah hasn’t run off with him. Could she have left on her own? Would she really do that? Or has something else happened, something I can’t stand to even think about?
When I get home from school, I’m surprised to find Sheralyn, my swimming volunteer, waiting for me. Mom says when she told the principal at my school what had happened, she said Sheralyn might be able to help out because she’s worked as an aide before. It turns out she’s still registered with the agency Mom uses, and she was eager to help. I’m glad it’s Sheralyn, but at the same time, having her here only makes me want Sarah back more, if that’s possible. Sarah has been missing for five days.
Sheralyn decides to take me for a walk to the shopping center. Maybe she’s trying to take my mind off things, but I hate the place. Too many people staring. They either look appalled or desperately sorry for me. There’s always some kid with a finger up one nose pointing at me with the other hand and saying, “What’s wrong with her?” Sarah used to bring me here a lot, but I think she sensed all the comments were upsetting me and we stopped coming so often.
As we reach the center, I recognize a man who is walking toward us. It’s Dan’s friend Billy. I see him look and recognize me, but he just walks straight past. It’s the total opposite of what he was like before. Of course, he doesn’t know Sheralyn, but would it hurt to stop and say hello?
As we reach the more crowded shopping area, I start thinking about my sister. She doesn’t live that far away. What if she was here now, walking around the stores? I wonder if I would recognize her from the photo. I’m looking at every girl and wondering if she could be her. That girl with dark hair looks too tall. This one has a kind face, but her hair is too light.
Ahead there is a woman with blond hair, tied back in a ponytail, walking away from us. My heart suddenly skips a beat. Sarah. She looks like Sarah. She really could be… She could be Sarah! She’s walking faster than us. She’s disappearing into the crowd. Wait!
She doesn’t wait. She’s gone. It couldn’t have been Sarah, could it? If she’s run away, she wouldn’t still be around here. She’d be worried about being spotted. I don’t think she walked quite like Sarah either. I have a lingering hope, though. Maybe it was her. Maybe she’s on her way home. Perhaps she’s stopped at the store to buy some flowers—or something to give Mom, to give all of us, to say sorry for all the worry she’s caused.
She doesn’t need to say sorry to me. I’d forgive her for getting us all so worried if she only came home.
“Hey—wait!” a woman calls. Sheralyn stops and swings me around. The woman has short gray hair. She must be sixty or seventy. What does she want?
“Here, take this for the poor lass,” the woman says.
She holds out a ten-dollar bill.
I can’t see Sheralyn’s face, as she is pushing me, but I hear the shock in her voice.
“No… Really, that’s very kind, but—”
“Please, dear,” says the woman. “I insist. Take it.” The money has gone from the woman’s hand.
I’m not a charity. Sarah would never have done that. She would have explained that I am well looked after, that I have what I need. I don’t need strangers giving me money in the street. I’m not a desperate homeless person.
“Sorry, Jemma,” Sheralyn says quietly as the woman disappears in the crowd. “That was so embarrassing. I didn’t know what to say. I’ll donate the money to charity.”
When we get back, I am still feeling upset about the woman treating me like a charity case. Mom’s upstairs with Finn and Olivia, but Sheralyn takes over with them and Mom comes down. She’s holding something—a letter!
“Jemma, I’ve got another letter for you from Jodi,” she says.
I can feel my heart beating faster as Mom begins to read.
Dear Jemma,
This is just a short note to say I am so excited about meeting you on Sunday! I can’t wait, and I can’t think about anything else! Your mom was so great on the phone. She’s told me all about you. I hope you are as excited as I am! I’m counting the days and the hours and the minutes!
Love, Jodi
Mom folds the letter and looks at me.
“Jemma, I’d forgotten we arranged this. I wonder if we should postpone it.”
“No!” I want to yell. I know everything with Sarah is awful, but I want to meet Jodi so much. I need something good to happen, and this is going to be it. I must meet my sister.
“Then again,” says Mom, “we don’t want to let Jodi down. This is such a big deal for both of you. Maybe it will take your mind off things.”
Mom sighs. I’m relieved. I just hope she doesn’t change her mind again.
When I get back from school the next day, Olivia’s already home, and she’s jumping up and down with excitement. My heart races. Is it Sarah… Is she back? I’ve been full of excitement myself all day about meeting Jodi on Sunday, but Olivia can’t be excited about that.
“Guess what?” she says, bounding up to me. “I took a photo of Sarah to school, and I showed it around to see if anyone had seen her—and Ruby Jones says she saw her in the supermarket!”
“Don’t get your hopes up too high, Olivia,” Mom says gently. “It was probably someone who looks like Sarah.”
So Sarah is not back. I get a pang of guilt for feeling happy about meeting Jodi when Sarah is still missing.
“It was her,” Olivia insists. “Ruby said she was sure!”
“It might have been Sarah that Ruby saw,” Mom acknowledges. “It also might not.”
“It was her,” Olivia insists again.
I wish it was. I wish so much that it was Sarah who Ruby saw in the supermarket and who I saw in the shopping center.
During dinner, the phone rings. Dad answers it. “Oh, Kate! Hello,” he says. “Any news? How are you coping?”
“Tell her Ruby saw Sarah,” Olivia demands. “She’ll want to know. You must tell her.”
“Shhhh! Wait,” Mom whispers. “Let’s find out why she’s called first.”
“You have? Really?” says Dad. “Do any of them seem likely?”
Likely? What could that mean?
I can’t see Dad’s face, but I can see how eagerly Mom and Olivia are watching him. Finn is tapping his fork on his plate. Tap, tap, tap, over and over.
I wish he’d stop.
Dad says something about a card. And then “That’s typical.”
“What’s she saying?” Olivia demands. “Have they found Sarah or what? Tell her about Ruby. Ruby saw her!”
“Shhhh!” Mom tells her, putting her finger to her lips.
“That sounds like an excellent idea,” Dad continues after listening for a few moments. “Of course we’ll help in any way we can. Just let us know.”
He puts the phone down. Mom looks at him questioningly.
“Why didn’t you tell her?” Olivia shouts. She stands up and kicks her chair over.
“Stop that, Olivia!” Dad says firmly. “Sit down and listen if you want to know what Kate said.”
Olivia hesitates, but she does want to know. She picks up her chair and sits down.
“Kate’s started a social media campaign, and she’s already had a few people contact her with sightings,” Dad tells Mom.
“See? I told you Ruby saw her!” Olivia interrupts. “I told you, and you didn’t believe it.”
“The first few didn’t sound likely,” Dad continues, “but now there’ve been three quite close together—all within ten miles of here—that do sound possible. The most interesting news is that the police say Sarah’s debit card was used two days ago to withdraw a hundred dollars—and the ATM is in Watford, not far from those three sightings.”
Sarah has taken money from an ATM. That must mean she’s alive, doesn’t it? Or is this Dan trying to throw people off the scent?
“Goodness,” says Mom. “Was there a security camera at the ATM?”
“The camera near it wasn’t working, and they couldn’t see anyone matching her description on the other nearby cameras—though they’re still going through the footage. The police think it’s a good sign. Her phone was last used at the concert itself, so that hasn’t been much help. Kate is certainly hopeful, though.”
“It was her,” says Olivia firmly.
“Kate’s put Sarah’s details on the Missing People web page. If someone doesn’t want to be found, they can still leave a message on there, just so family and friends know they are okay. Kate is getting some posters made, and she’s asked if we’ll help put them up around here.”
“I’ll help!” says Olivia.
If Sarah has been seen, if she’s used an ATM, then it truly sounds possible she chose to leave. I want her to be alive, even though it’s hard to bear the thought that she left us like that—that she was so unhappy. I can’t take this much longer, this limbo.
Later, Mom gets out the nail-polish remover and takes off my now-chipped nail polish. I keep thinking about Sarah putting it on me so carefully, so kindly. I can see her sparkly eyes, her excitement about the concert. I don’t want Mom to take it off. It connects me to Sarah, and, without it, I feel like Sarah is even farther away. But soon the nail polish has gone and only the strong smell of the remover lingers, making me cough. I wonder if anyone will ever paint my nails again.