Cade had told me they were centering their search around the clearing where Declan had met his friends, moving methodically outward in a grid to cover every inch of territory. It was a painstaking, thorough, time-consuming procedure. One that was measured in days, not hours.
“If there’s even a tiny chance we could find Rory out here, I want to check it out,” Georgia insisted. Her voice went softer as she added, “Whatever you saw, whatever you felt… I trust your instincts, Imogen.”
My breath caught. I hadn’t realized, until that moment, that Georgia knew about my visions. I hadn’t told her — hadn’t wanted to get her hopes up unfairly — but someone else must have spilled the beans.
Was there anyone left in this town who didn’t know all my secrets?
Not likely.
A few days ago, that knowledge would’ve made me feel exposed. Uncomfortable. I would’ve had to fight the urge to disappear. But now, as I stared around the circle from Gwen to Florence to Georgia, I didn’t feel judged. I didn’t feel like a lab rat or a bug under a microscope. I didn’t even feel like Fake Imogen. They were looking at me — therealme — and there was no judgment in their expressions. No suspicion or calculation.
Only openness.
Only trust.
I swallowed hard.
“All right,” I whispered, tilting my chin toward the old railroad tracks. “We’d better get going.”
* * *
We walked for nearly an hour, following the tracks deeper and deeper into the woods. The trees were so tall, they blocked most of the sun even when it reached its apex in the midday sky.
“I’ve lived in this town all my life, but I had no idea there was so much wilderness back here,” Florence called, bringing up the rear.
“Where are we, anyway?” Gwen asked. “Somewhere behind the quarry?”
“Not anymore,” I murmured, scanning the terrain ahead. Looking for something — anything — I recognized from Annie’s memories. “We’re closer to the marshes.”
“Does the city own all this land?” Georgia looked around at the thick woods to either side. “The state?”
“No idea. The state probably owns the tracks. The rest…” I trailed off with a shrug.
“I just hope axe-wielding hillbillies don’t come out of the trees and chop us to bits for stepping on their turf,” Flo said cheerfully. “Have you seen thoseWrong Turnmovies? Sheesh!”
We continued walking.
Continued searching.
Mostly in silence, just trudging along, listening to the birds chirping in the trees overhead. The wind stirred fallen leaves around our feet into tiny vortexes of orange and red. Occasionally, a squirrel or bunny would dart across our path, and Socks would nearly yank my arm off trying to chase them down.
I gnawed on my lip as the minutes ticked on and on without a single sign we were going the right direction. I was starting to doubt my own memory. Were these even the right tracks? I thought they were, but… Maybe I hadn’t seen what I thought I did. Maybe I was so desperate for a clue that would break this case wide open, my mind had conjured up?—
“There!”
Georgia screamed and started running in a dead sprint toward a clump of low-lying bushes about twenty feet off the tracks. We all burst into motion, close on her heels. Socks barked happily, thinking it was a game, but the rest of us didn’t make a single sound. I felt like I was running in slow motion, my limbs waterlogged by anxiety and dread. My heart, on the other hand, was in fast forward, thudding triple-time.
I watched my friend drop down into the dirt. She made an awful noise — a whimper of raw emotion that pierced me through the gut. Her hands shook violently as she pointed into the wild juniper bush.
There, snagged on one of the branches, was a piece of stiff reflective material. It gleamed faintly in the sunshine. I gasped, recognizing it instantly as one of the flight-activator panels we’d glued onto Rory’s space invader costume.
“Oh,shit,” Flo whispered.
“Is that?—”
“Rory’s.” Gigi cut off Gwen’s question in a trembling voice. “It’s Rory’s.”
I couldn’t say a word. I was stunned silent.