43

NEW YORK CITY

Sarah had sat in a stupor right outside Sean’s closet so long that she couldn’t even see her hand in front of her. The sky was dark outside the large bedroom window. Her fingers were numb from gripping her brother’s Nike Air Force 1s.

Her cell had rung and rung. Text messages had vibrated. She hadn’t made a move to answer them.

That body isn’t Sean, but where is he? The words reverberated over and over in her brain.

She couldn’t handle being in limbo between life and death for much longer.

At that moment she heard the creak of the front door opening. Sean!

She dropped the Nikes and then tripped over them in her rush for the door. Before she found the light switch in his bedroom, a man’s frame filled the doorway.

“Sarah?”

It was Will. She took two more steps and collapsed in his arms.

There had been five times in Will’s life when he had felt helpless. He could remember each of them distinctly.

The first was when he’d seen his mother, a bastion of strength, sitting alone in their backyard garden at Chautauqua. She was crying. Will couldn’t recall exactly how old he was, but he was young. He hadn’t known how to comfort her, so he’d done the only thing he could. He’d climbed up into her lap and hugged her. To this day, he could remember the tears that dripped onto his cheek, the sadness, the heaviness, of knowing something had gone terribly wrong.

Now he realized that was likely the moment his mother had found out she was pregnant with Sean, before his father’s return from India. That experience of seeing his mother’s weakness had formed in Will, from an early age, a fierce protectiveness toward those he loved. That included the tiny packages of his brother and sister at their births.

The second time he’d felt helpless was also at Chautauqua. Will had hoped for one night’s dose of peace and quiet and a sunset view before his campaign launched. Instead his mother had joined him and told him how Sean came to be a part of their family. The revelation had shaken his world and much of what he had thought to be true about his childhood and his parents’ relationship.

The third and fourth times were both today. The third, when Drew had identified the type of shoe found on the body, and Will recognized that Sean had a pair just like them. The fourth, when Sarah had told him which other shoes were missing—the very ones Sean had worn to breakfast with Ava. Somehow, for Will, those shoes became the icon of their brother, who had simply vanished into thin air. Where was he? They were no closer today to finding him than they’d been a week ago.

The fifth time was now, as he held his baby sister and bore the weight of her grief as well as his own.