The color seemed to drain out of my mom’s face. She looked at my dad, and he seemed just as lost. My questions lingered in the air as I began to think of all of the horrible things that might’ve happened to my sister and her friend.
The only person who seemed to think I deserved answers wasn’t even related to me (as far as I knew. Things were getting so weird!). “Cassidy, your sister is fine. I just came to talk to your parents about that. She’s with your grandma.”
This raised a million other questions. Why didn’t Grandma Janette just call? Why would he need to be the one to tell them anything about their own kid? But I nodded. At least Cadence was okay, and someone was answering my questions.
“Honey,” my mom said, unfreezing and turning to face me, “Drew… passed away.”
Even though I’d been bracing for bad news about Drew all morning, hearing that information was still like a blow to the gut. I’d never known a real person who died before. I mean, my grandpa died before I was born, like I said, but I never knew him. I guess there were some older people in the neighborhood who had passed on, but this was totally different. Drew was only seventeen—only two years older than me. She was young, full of life. I felt tears stinging my eyes, but I didn’t have any words.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” My dad wrapped his arms around me. “I know she was on the cheerleading squad with you.”
It wasn’t the time to explain that wasn’t quite right, but I knew what my dad meant, and it was nice that my parents realized that losing one of Cadence’s friends was hard on me, too, even if we didn’t hang out together the way that Cadence and Drew did. I fought back my tears, though, not wanting to cry in front of this stranger.
My dad released me. “Thanks for letting me know,” I said.
“Why don’t you head upstairs, and we’ll be up to talk in a few minutes?” My mom’s suggestion was acceptable, now that I knew what was going on. I nodded and turned to go, but before I made it to the stairs, I couldn’t help but make eye contact again with the handsome, mysterious stranger. I didn’t know who or what he was, but I felt like my world had been turned upside down over the course of just a few hours, and he knew more than he was willing to say.
He looked at me for a second, a small smile forming, as if he wanted to assure me everything would be all right, but that’s just the sort of thing a girl thinks when she lets the hitchhiker into her car and winds up in a dumpster. No, I did not trust this Aaron McReynolds person, and I would do my best to find out why he was there and what he had to do with my sister.
I headed up the stairs, making as much noise as I could, lulling them into thinking I was long gone. I even went so far as to open and close my bedroom door before I slunk back over to the stairs and dropped down next to the railing. Luckily for me, they continued to stand in the entryway for a moment, rather than heading straight to the living room, which was further away. I was pretty sure if they moved locations, I wouldn’t be able to hear a word.
My father is a little hard of hearing, so my mom has learned to talk really loudly. Aaron’s voice wasn’t loud at all and had sort of a melody to it I couldn’t actually describe, though it was more intoxicating than I would care to admit. My dad’s bass boomed, and I could hear nearly every word he said.
“How is she?” my mom asked about the time I plastered my head to the floor so the noise could carry up through the stairwell to my head, or at least, that’s what I was hoping.
“She’s okay,” Aaron said. Then there was something else I couldn’t make out, followed by, “I’m going… talk to her. We need her to think this is her idea, even though it’s too late to go back now.”
My mom said, “Right. I thought as soon as I got her text this is what we were up against. So… there’s no avoiding the changes now?”
Aaron said something that sounded like, “I’m afraid not,” though I wasn’t sure. I had to assume they were talking about my sister. Something really had happened to her last night, and whatever it was she would never be the same.
“Let’s go sit down, and you can tell us about this new process Jamie has,” my father said.
I begged them silently to stay there a bit longer so I could hear what they were saying, but I heard footsteps leading away from the foyer. The last word I heard my mother say sent chills down my spine. I have no idea what the first part of the sentence was, but the last word sounded condemning. Transformation.
Once my parents were out of earshot, I belly crawled back to my bedroom and then stood, carefully opening and closing the door so they wouldn’t hear that I had been slightly disobedient. I picked up my phone and saw I had twenty-three missed calls. All from Lucy. I also had fifteen voicemails from my impatient friend, but I didn’t bother to listen to them. Instead, I pushed the appropriate buttons so that her squeaky voice filled my ear in less than two seconds.
“Oh, my gosh, Cassidy! Where have you been?”
I started to apologize, but all I got out was “Sor—” before she continued.
“Did you hear what happened to Drew Peterson last night? OMG, everyone is talking about it. It’s just awful. And everyone is saying your sister was there when it happened, and now she’s just so totally devastated that she’s gone off to live with your grandma or something. What in the world is going on, Cass?”
That all came out in one long, drawn out breath, and I knew if I was actually going to answer her before she started talking again, I’d have to act quickly. “You may know more than I do,” I admitted. “My parents won’t tell me much.” I didn’t tell her about the strange man downstairs. Not yet, anyway. “Do you know what happened to Drew?”“I know what everyone is saying. It doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to me, but every single one of her friends that was with he swears it’s the truth. Except for maybe your sis because she’s not here. She’s not there, right?”“No, she’s at my grandma’s.” That much I did believe, though I wasn’t sure why.“Well, I guess Drew told her parents she was going to spend the night at her friend Sidney Cox’s house last night, but instead they all went out somewhere.” I was positive I knew what Lucy wo
I was a little relieved to hear that my dad was talking to Aaron outside when I came down the stairs with my mother. There was just something about the intensity of his eyes that made me uncomfortable. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but their voices seemed lighter than they had a few minutes ago when the stranger had first arrived.My mom led me into the living room, and I followed as if I’d never been to this particular part of our home before, each step feeling a bit like a death sentence. Dr. Sanderson unfolded himself from my mother’s recliner as we approached, and I had a hard time taking in how someone so large could occupy the same space as my dainty mother.“Cassidy, honey, this is Dr. Sanderson.”He extended his large hand to me, and I let it envelop mine. There was something hauntingly familiar about his green eyes. It was like I’d seen them before, frequently, and while I was certain I would remember meeting
Thanksgiving dinner was delicious, even though it was so odd to me that my sister wasn’t there. I really wished she could’ve been, but I understood that Cadence needed to rest. I wanted to know more about her new job, but I also realized there was no reason to ask about it. Everything was just fine.After I helped my mom clear the table and put the dishes in the dishwasher, I decided to head upstairs. I doubted Lucy or Em would have called since I’d already talked to one and the other would be busy trying to avoid her family. Emma really hated crowds of any kind, even if they were related to her, and I was pretty sure the meal this year was supposed to be at her house. I did think maybe Milo or Wes would’ve called, though. They both lived just down the street from Jack Cook, and it was possible they might’ve seen him. They might want to know what was going on, and I’d be happy to explain to them that it was an accident and nothing to worry
A knock at the door interrupted what would’ve been a pretty good buck-toothed rabbit face my dad was constructing on a short stack. “I’ll get it,” my mom said, pulling herself away from blueberry eyes. I could tell by the way she looked at my dad that she was reluctant to see who had come calling. They exchanged nervous glances.Something twisted inside of me, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Have you ever had something really terrible going on in your life, and for a few moments you lose track of it, like it’s not consciously on your mind, but then it starts to creep in, and before it even registers in your brain, your stomach starts to hurt, like a sharp knife has been plummeted in from the side, a sneak attack? It was like that. I looked at my dad and he offered a small smile before he, too, pushed back his chair. “Go ahead and eat, Cass. We’ll be back in a few minutes.”I nodded, and he exited the dinin
My parents seemed to buy my routine. My mom looked at my dad and gave him that reassuring smile she makes when she’s certain her children are the most precious creatures in the world. My dad did his complimentary, “I concur,” smile.I took another, much smaller, bite of my pancakes and chewed it slowly. After trying to eat nearly a quarter of them in one bite, they were less appealing than they had been when my dad and I had initially made them.My mom cleared her throat the way she does when something important needs to be said, but she is not sure if she should say it or if my dad should. They were looking at each other making small shrugging motions. Finally, my mom said, “Cassidy, you should probably know that your sister has decided not to go back to school right now.”My fork clattered out of my hand onto my plate. “What?” I asked. I had heard some unusual things recently, I guess—maybe they weren’t tha
I’m not sure what they were talking about when I came back into the room, but their voices got all hushed. I did hear a few words, which didn’t make sense to me. I hurried upstairs to make sure it was okay with Luce if I came over for a while, wondering who Aaron had said probably went “back to Europe.”Upstairs, I sent Lucy a text. “Can I come over in a few?”She answered almost immediately. “Sure! Just about to text. And Em, too.”“Cool. My dad’s driving me, so, maybe ten minutes?”“Whenever. My mom’s shopping and my dad’s at the golf course.”For some reason, I was glad her parents wouldn’t be there. It seemed like there was something important I needed to tell her, though I didn’t know what it was. “What about Daniel?”“Are you kidding? It’s not even 10:00 yet. He’ll be asleep for another hour or two.”
“Hi, Lucy,” I said with a friendly smile. She narrowed one eye at me. “What’s up?”“Cassidy Elizabeth Findley, get in here.” She stepped out of the way and I entered into a foyer with floors made of marble and a grand staircase with ornate moldings cascaded from the second story behind my diminutive friend.Emma came bounding in from the adjoining living room, straightening her glasses. Her short brown hair was a little frizzy, and I thought about asking her if she remembered to use her conditioning spray this morning. Lucy and I have been trying to get her to understand different products we use, not because we care so much what she looks like but because we feel it is our duty as her friend to explain the purposes behind the things that we do that Emma doesn’t get or doesn’t care about. I pushed the thoughts aside and said, “Hi, Em.”Without looking at my face, she said, “Hi.”
Lucy cocked her head to the side, and Emma said, “Hmmm.” Then they looked at each other.“Seriously. Like, I found it, and I don’t know when I wrote it.” I was beginning to panic a little on the inside. What if I started to forget other things, too, like my friends or the days of the week?“Well,” Emma said, straightening her glasses as she got up and moved back to her chair, “I guess that means you don’t remember any of those things actually happening either?”It was a good question, and the short answer was no, I didn’t. But then, I’d just discovered this page before I’d come over, and I hadn’t really thought about trying to remember.“This is so bizarre,” Lucy said. “What would make you write something down and then forget it? Were you sleeping when you wrote it?”“I don’t know. I don’t remember writing it.”