65

Leah

Sunday, December 17th, 1989
Lucy missing 11 weeks, 2 days

When I wake up, my room is already lemon-yellow with the sun. I can smell the smoky smell of bacon frying, and my stomach gurgles and rumbles. After I brush my teeth and pull my frazzled hair back into a ponytail, I drift groggily down the stairs to the dining room, still half in a dream state.

“Morning, sweetie,” Mom says and kisses the top of my head. I sink into a chair and Mom pushes a cup of chocolate milk at me before stepping back into the kitchen to finish cooking breakfast.

My eyes are still adjusting to the morning light, which is much brighter in the dining room. The sun is shining and it reflects off the silvery pools of rainwater below in our courtyard, and I’ve just turned back to my milk when I see a figure moving out of the corner of my eye. I whip back around and look out the window and see the top of white, wild hair, walking toward the front of the house. My heart starts pounding.

“Mom!” I call out in a high pitch, but before she answers there is a knocking at the front door. I creep around the stairway and hear the front door creak as Mom answers it. I’m about to rush to Mom’s side, but I hear her say, “Oh, it’s you again.”

And something in Mom’s voice makes me pause at the wall, just within ear shot to hear their conversation. Maybe Mom knows I’m snooping because I hear her voice as it moves to the top step of the porch and gets picked up by the wind. I can only hear snatches of words, so I inch closer. I hear the woman say, in a pleading voice, “But I know what happened to her.” And then I hear Mom raise her voice and move to close the door, but not before I hear the woman say, loud enough for me to hear, “712 Melton. That’s my address if you change your—” and then the door slams shut.