QUINN SPRANG BACK. Her heart pulsed in her throat. Blood drummed in her ears. She dove for Kara.
Kara made a soft sound, like a cooing dove. She rolled over and continued to doze. Quinn shook her hard. “Wake up, Kara. Wake up!”
Kara raised her head. She looked at Quinn through puckered eyes and yawned like she’d been asleep for centuries. “Huh? Whaa?”
“There!” Quinn yelled. “Look!”
Kara sat up drowsily. She looked around. “Where? What?”
Quinn pointed a frantic finger at the other bed, but when she turned to look at it, the blood was gone.
She leaped toward the bed and pulled back the covers. She flopped them this way and that, but there was no trace of blood. She swore it had been there a second ago—a deep, wet stain. She picked up the pillow—it was silky white, the duvet rosy pink. She let them fall from her hands. She blinked hard and rubbed her eyes. Her mind was hazy. She must have been dreaming.
“What’s wrong with you?” said Kara.
Quinn took a deep breath and exhaled. “Your mom’s gone.”
Kara frowned. She stretched her arms and rubbed her eyes. She looked over at the empty bed, then at Quinn’s confused expression, and shook her head. “Don’t worry. She’s probably in the next room.”
The door between the two rooms was shut. The overnight bag Mrs. Cawston had brought was gone. So was her purse. Only Quinn’s shorts, Kara’s skirt, and their T-shirts were left—all folded neatly in two piles on top of the dresser. The room key was placed between them.
Quinn wandered toward the window and pulled open the drapes. The sky was still dark, but a hint of blue crept over the horizon. She wondered what time it was. Probably very early, judging by the position of the sun. “Why didn’t she wake us?”
Kara stepped out of bed and stretched. “I guess she wanted to let us sleep in.”
Quinn grabbed her clothes and entered the bathroom to change—just in case Josh decided to barge into the room. Her whole body felt achy. She tilted her neck side to side and rubbed her arms and thighs.
She got dressed as quickly as she could. The new blue T-shirt she’d bought for the trip was wrinkled from the car ride. She didn’t like the idea of wearing the same clothes two days in a row, but she could think of worse things. Like having no toothbrush. Both Kara’s and hers weren’t there. Mrs. Cawston must have forgotten to leave them out. Where had she moved the overnight bag?
Quinn dragged her fingers through the tangles in her hair. That’s when she noticed the skin around her wrist had healed. Not scabbed over, but mended. Good as new. Like she’d never been cut at all. She slid the bracelet higher on her wrist and rubbed the spot. The wound hadn’t been nearly as bad as she’d thought.
When Quinn exited the bathroom Kara was already dressed. She was slow waking, but once she got going she fizzed with energy. She had a huge smile on her face and her brown eyes sparkled.
“Can you check if your mom’s in the other room? If she’s there, ask her for the toiletry bag. I wanna brush my teeth.”
“Okeydokey, artichokie,” said Kara. She moved toward the adjoining door, threw it open, and passed into the next room. Quinn didn’t follow, just in case Josh or Mr. Cawston wasn’t quite ready.
Quinn thought Kara’s dad was great. Like Kara, he always wore a huge smile. He loved to tell funny stories and often surprised Kara and Josh with tickets to some ball game or movie or amusement park.
Quinn’s parents used to be like that, too—happy, smiling, full of energy and fun. Now their voices were somber, their movements slow. Their words were guarded, like they could never really say what they meant. They were ghosts pretending to be people. They looked real and sounded real, but Quinn was sure if she reached out to touch them, her hand would slice through thin air.
Kara emerged from the archway. “Josh is still asleep, but my parents are gone.”
Quinn gasped. “What do you mean gone?”
“As in not there, silly.”
Quinn stared at her for a moment, calculating explanations. “Do you think they went to get breakfast?”
“Maybe,” said Kara. “Or maybe they’re getting some stuff from the car.”
“Yeah. I’m sure that’s it.” Quinn smiled. “They probably went to get the charger. Your mom said she’d charge the phone in the morning.”
Kara moved back toward the archway. “I’m gonna wake Josh.”
Quinn returned to the window. Sunlight spilled over the landscape. The sand glistened like crushed gold. She could hear Josh grumbling in the next room.
She crossed the room and stepped into her boots. She opened the door and peeked out. The corridor was as dim as it had been the previous evening. Light sizzled from the fake candles. She searched right and left for Kara’s parents.
At the far end was a trolley filled with towels, rolls of toilet paper, and tiny bottles. A short, stout maid in a black dress with a frilly white apron stood beside it. She looked up and her lips curled into a smile—the same sticky-sweet smile as on all the other employees of Inn Between. She bent her head and went about her business, dumping a wastebasket into a trash bag attached to the trolley’s end.
Quinn shut the door. She didn’t want to run into anyone, especially the old man from the night before.
Josh stumbled into the room, his shirt hanging out of his jeans, and flopped onto the bed where his mother had slept. “Where are they? I’m starved.”
Kara rolled her eyes. “You’re so predictable.”
“And you’re so annoying.” He threw a pillow at her.
Quinn caught it. “Stop bickering, children,” she said, imitating Mrs. Cawston. “Or I’ll call the mother ship to beam you both up.”
Kara and Josh laughed.
Josh tried the TV. Channel after channel was filled with nothing but black and white dots. They watched the frenzy for some time in silence, but no one came.
“Where could they be?” asked Quinn.
Kara shrugged. “You know them. They like to wander off on their own. They’re weird like that.”
Quinn nodded. It was true. The Cawstons could be unpredictable. “But don’t you think it’s strange—even for them?”
“Maybe.” Kara sighed. “But I gave up trying to figure them out ages ago.”
Josh’s stomach rumbled. He sprang to his feet and shut off the TV. “Let’s go. They’re probably having coffee. Maybe eating without us.” The thought seemed to trouble him immensely.
“He’s right,” said Kara. “Besides, this room is starting to make me feel claustrophobic.”
“Should we leave a note?” asked Quinn.
“Good idea,” said Kara. She rifled through the dresser drawer and found a pad of paper and a pen. She quickly jotted down a few words and left the paper on the bed.
The three headed through the halls toward the main lobby, Josh up front, Kara in the middle, and Quinn bringing up the rear. They made it all the way to the enormous lobby without meeting a single soul.
Morning light streamed in through the long, lean windows. In the lemony glow, the lobby was even more beautiful than Quinn remembered—the most beautiful hotel she’d ever seen.
As she stared at the gilded wallpaper and interesting artwork, a grinding noise stole her attention. The elevator was heading upward. She caught sight of the operator’s legs standing beside a passenger wearing beige polyester pants with matching beige support shoes.
“I so want to ride that thing,” said Josh. “It reminds me of the elevator in that horror movie. You know, the one where those three kids are trying to escape a city full of postapocalyptic zombies and they race into this old building and jump in the elevator, only the elevator is jammed and a zombie reaches in and pulls the one guy right through the bars, totally shredding him?”
“Charming,” said Kara.
“I’ll stick to the stairs,” said Quinn.
“Suit yourself.” Josh shrugged. He left the girls to wait by the elevator, apparently forgetting his stomach and his parents for the moment.
Persephone was behind the front desk, busy checking in a new guest. Quinn decided she must work long shifts. Maybe she even lived at the hotel. Maybe all the employees did—after all, the hotel was pretty far from civilization. If anything, they’d have a very long commute.
The new guest was a young woman. Her long dark hair was damp. So were her clothes. Her eyes were glassy and listless, her face puffy, her lips marbled. She wasn’t carrying any luggage.
Quinn’s eyes met the woman’s, and for a moment Quinn thought she seemed frightened.
Quinn and Kara exchanged glances.
The woman was about to say something, but Persephone interrupted. “Your key, Ms. Khan. Let me know if there’s anything else.”
She stared at the bronze key for a moment, then took it and left the front desk, glancing side to side as she left the lobby.
At the far end, Quinn noticed the French doors were open. Beyond them she heard dishes and cutlery clanking. The edge of a starched white tablecloth was visible. She took Kara’s arm. “Come on.”
“Josh!” called Kara. “Restaurant!”
Josh tore himself from the elevator and joined the girls. They stood in the doorway searching the tables for Mr. and Mrs. Cawston.
Most people sat alone—business travelers, thought Quinn. Though most were very old, some were really young—not much older than Quinn and Kara. They didn’t look at all like they were there on business. There was no sign of Kara’s parents.
A uniformed woman bustled toward them. She had definitely passed smile-school with flying colors. “Good morning. We’ve been expecting you.”
Kara spoke up. “We’re looking for my parents. Have you seen a man and a woman? Tall man, longish hair. With a woman wearing jeans and a yellow T-shirt?”
“No one like that this morning, miss,” said the woman. “May I seat you?”
“Sure!” said Josh.
“Hold on,” said Kara. “We have to wait for Mom and Dad. We don’t have any money.”
“Breakfast is complimentary,” said the bubbly woman.
Josh grinned. “See. Complimentary. Don’t worry about Mom and Dad—they’ll find us.”
Quinn looked at Kara. She raised her eyebrows.
“He’s right. They’re probably out for a hike,” said Kara. “Some alone time.” She stretched the word alone and rolled her eyes. “We might as well eat.”
Quinn nodded. The food smelled delicious. And knowing Josh, Mr. and Mrs. Cawston would check the restaurant first.
The woman seated them near the entrance to the lobby so they could keep an eye out. Josh raced ahead to the buffet. Quinn and Kara followed.
Waves of crisp bacon, sausages glossy with grease, fluffy yellow clouds of scrambled eggs, plate-size pancakes wafting vanilla and cinnamon into the air lined the buffet. There were fresh berries and sliced pineapple and three kinds of melon balls. There was even a carving station with a huge slab of baked ham and an enormous hunk of roast beef. A man dressed in white stood behind it holding a gleaming knife, prepared to shave off a sliver.
Josh was in heaven. He piled his plate high until it was a staggering mound of breakfast delights. By the time Quinn and Kara got to the table he was already elbow-deep in sausages, eggs, and pancakes. He chomped and smacked loudly. Quinn slipped a bite of blueberry pancake into her mouth. It practically melted on her tongue.
While she ate, she studied the sea of faces at the surrounding tables. There was an old woman with cotton-candy hair and gray crinkly eyes, a man with slicked-back hair wearing a pin-striped business suit, and a young couple leaning in close talking in hushed whispers. Different complexions, different ages, yet they all shared a strange expression—as though something wasn’t quite right.
“I need my wallet,” whispered the young woman.
“Don’t worry,” said the guy with her. “They said we don’t need any money.”
“I want my purse back. Have you seen my purse? Someone took my purse.”
At another table Quinn saw a family—a man, a woman, and a little girl. For a second she wondered if it had been the little girl she’d heard crying the previous night. It was possible.
“It’s so hot in here,” said the woman. She fanned herself with her hand. “I’m dying of heat.”
Pearls of sweat covered the man’s forehead. His face looked flushed. He mopped himself with his napkin. “The air-conditioning must be broken,” he said. “I’ll speak to the front desk.”
Quinn frowned. She wasn’t hot at all. In fact, if anything, she felt a slight chill.
While the parents continued to complain about the heat, the little girl sat silently, clutching a cloth doll. It wore a frilly green dress and had matching green shoes. Its hair was a tangle of orange wool. The girl held out her doll and smoothed down the hair. That’s when Quinn noticed one side of the doll’s hair was singed and part of her green dress was smudged with soot. The girl didn’t seem to notice. Or perhaps she didn’t care.
Beside the family sat a teenage guy with a faux-hawk. His arms were covered in tattoos. He was bent over a steaming cup of coffee. He looked exhausted, as though he’d been up all night.
Quinn sat contemplating the strange assortment of guests. She was about to pop a bite of greasy sausage into her mouth, when her eyes fell on him.
In the farthest corner, draped in shadow, was the man with the black-and-yellow ball cap. Even across the crowded room, Quinn could see his bloodshot eyes examining Kara, then Josh, before settling on her.