Socks answered by swiping his tongue at the crook of my knee. I took that to mean he wanted breakfast.
“Okay, boy. I won’t hold this against you. It’s notyourfault you were born to a wannabe superhero with great hair who insists on solving all my problems, being unbearably good in bed, and making it impossible for me to hate him.”
He licked my leg again.
I dumped a large helping of kibble into Socks’ bowl, then poured cereal for myself. My options in the cupboard were… Raisin Bran, Raisin Bran, and, you guessed it, more Raisin Bran.
Yuck.
Cade needed some new breakfast options. Now that I had wheels again, I was going to hit the grocery store ASAP and load up on some non-disgusting cereal alternatives.
I shoveled spoonfuls down my throat at the kitchen island, eyes locked on the evidence box. I had yet to open it, but I couldn’t stop wondering what was inside. I rinsed my bowl in the sink, then moved back toward the counter, drawn in like a moth to the flame.
Removing the lid, I reached into the box. My fingers landed on a clear evidence bag. Inside, there were clothing items belonging to a young girl. A paisley blue cotton shirt with ruffled sleeves. A pair of tiny jean shorts. Two small sneakers, once white-soled, now dirt-streaked.
I held my breath as I unsealed the bag and touched the items one by one.
Nothing happened.
No shower of purple.
No visions.
Blowing out a frustrated breath, I set that bag aside and reached back into the box. There wasn’t much else. A few police reports printed on official SPD stationary — again, triggering nothing — and some handwritten notes from the lead detective on the case, yellowed with age. I skimmed them briefly but they didn’t reveal anything new in the way of information.
At the very bottom of the box, there was one more evidence bag. It was minuscule, no bigger than the size of my hand. It held a girl’s gold locket. I wondered why the Thurmans had never collected it. Maybe, in the aftermath, they didn’t want anything associated with that awful chapter of their lives. Maybe they’d simply forgotten.
My fingers shook a bit as I traced the heart-shaped pendant through the plastic. The gold was tarnished. Its tiny hinges were hanging loose.
Annie had worn this piece often.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I dumped the locket into my palm — and fell straight to the kitchen floor in a dead faint as the vision consumed me.
The little girl hates lamb chops. She hates the formal dining room, and the linen tablecloths, and the way Mother and Father glare at each other when they think she’s not paying attention.
She likes to eat dinner at her friend Emma’s house, instead. Emma has four siblings, all of them louder than the last. Emma’s parents smile at one another. They don’t serve lamb or game hen or escargot. They order Chinese food and eat it right out of the cartons, everyone yelling about egg rolls and tossing fortune cookies around.
The little girl looks at the big house up the sloping lawn. Any minute now, the maid will come out and call for her. Any minute now, she’ll have to sit at the big table, hands folded on her lap, and force down bites of icky fancy food.
She’d rather be at Emma’s.
She wants to live at Emma’s.
She doesn’t look back as she rushes toward the trees. She’s not supposed to cut across the golf course, but it’s faster than going the long way around. If she goes fast, she can be there in time for crab rangoons. She’s never had a crab rangoon before — she doesn’t even know what a crab rangoon is — but she wants to, desperately. Last time, Emma’s big brothers devoured them all before she got a taste.
The girl hurries across the fairway. It is the middle of summer, still warm though it’s twilight. A secret thrill moves through her as she races around sand pits and flagsticks. Her parents will be furious. But they are always furious, these days. Her thrill shifts to panic as she spots a golf cart coming straight for her.
If she’s spotted, they might take her back home!
She darts into the trees.
She can find her way from there.
It’s not far.
The vision shifted with meteoric sparks of purple.
The girl is lost.