Chapter 14 - JUNE DISAPPEARS
June’s bicycle was found beside the elementary school fence.
Her purple raincoat was folded on the seat.
Too neatly.
Her father, Ben Bell, stood in the school parking lot with both hands on his head while officers searched dumpsters, classrooms, drains, every ugly place adults imagine when a child disappears.
When he saw me, he crossed the lot fast.
I braced for a punch.
He hugged me.
Hard.
“Get her back.”
I didn’t know what to do with my arms.
“I’m going to try.”
“No. Don’t try.” He pulled back. His eyes were red. “She said you saved her. She said everyone was making fun of her because she told the truth about your eyes.”
I looked away.
Ben gripped my shoulders.
“She trusted you.”
The sentence landed like a weight.
“I know.”
Sheriff Ortiz interrupted before I could promise something impossible.
“We found video.”
A van had stopped near the school at 7:41. June had walked toward it willingly.
The driver was a woman in blue scrubs.
Celia Wren.
Noah swore.
I stared at the screen.
“She helped us escape.”
Ortiz said, “Apparently she also kidnapped a child.”
People were messy.
That should not have surprised me anymore.
At noon, Celia called.
Ortiz put the phone on speaker.
“June is safe,” Celia said immediately.
Ben shouted, “Let me talk to her!”
“You can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because Adrian is listening.”
A male voice murmured in the background.
Celia continued quickly. “He moved everyone to the Voss estate north of the quarry. Underground lab. He has Katie and Eli. He wants Mara by sunset.”
Ortiz said, “Why did you take June?”
Silence.
Then Celia said, “Because he told me he would kill my son.”
Ben slammed his fist against a cruiser.
I closed my eyes behind my glasses.
Another hostage.
Another person making a terrible choice for a reason that did not make it less terrible.
Celia’s voice broke.
“I’m sorry.”
Ben yelled something I won’t repeat.
I understood both of them.
That was the worst part.
Celia whispered, “Mara, your mother’s protocol is still here. Adrian believes reversal requires your tears and blood. It doesn’t.”
“What does it require?”
“I can’t say on the phone.”
A pause.
Then, very softly: “It requires you to look back.”
The line went dead.
Noah turned to me.
“What does that mean?”
I knew.
Or I thought I did.
My mother used to make me practice in mirrors as a child.
Look at yourself until you can see past the fear.
I had always thought it was therapy.
Maybe it wasn’t.
Sheriff Ortiz spread a satellite image of the Voss property across the hood of her cruiser.
“State tactical team gets here in forty minutes.”
Ben said, “We don’t have forty minutes.”
Ortiz pointed at him. “You are not going anywhere.”
He nodded.
Too quickly.
I noticed.
Noah noticed too.
Neither of us said anything.
That was another mistake.
Twenty minutes later, Ben Bell was gone.
So was one of the patrol rifles.
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