The bathroom door swung inward as Maura stood at the sink wiping smeared mascara from under her eyes.

"Hi," the girl said as she made her way past Maura to the nearest stall.

"Hey," Maura mumbled. She wadded up the wet paper towel in her hand and tossed it into the garbage.

The girl paused, her hand on the stall door. "What happened to those girls . . . it's just awful, isn't it?"

"Excuse me?" Maura said.

"That's why you were crying, right? Were you very good friends with . . . what was her name?"

"Katherine. And good enough, I suppose." Maura grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder. "I have to go."

She made her way down the hall toward her counselor's office. The door was locked, but there was no way she was going back to the gym. She'd wait. Twenty minutes later, the sound of stampeding feet filled the corridor as everyone returned to their normal schedules. As if there weren't three girls missing and now probably dead.

"Maura!" the counselor said when she found Maura standing outside her office. "Good morning."

"Good morning, Ms. Oliver. I know we don't have a scheduled appointment, but I was wondering if you have time to talk."

Ms. Oliver ushered her inside and then closed the door behind them. "Of course. Give me a few minutes to get settled."

Maura took a seat and clenched her hands between her knees as she watched Ms. Oliver power up her computer, remove several folders from her bag and file them away in a locked cabinet, take a sip of her coffee, and finally sit in the opposite chair.

"Whew!" Ms. Oliver exclaimed. She leaned forward slightly and smiled, revealing a smear of pink lipstick on her front teeth. "How can I help you today?"

Maura looked down at her hands and took a deep breath. She was beyond feeling embarrassed about sharing her feelings, especially with Ms. Oliver. "At the assembly . . . I think I almost had a panic attack."

"I'm not surprised. I saw you leave in a hurry. Are you okay?"

Maura glanced up to find that the woman's smile had been replaced by a look of concern. She took another deep breath, feeling like she couldn't get enough air. "Seeing those police officers, hearing them talking about those missing girls . . . it brought back a lot of memories. From that day."

Ms. Oliver jotted something down on her notepad. "I wondered if that's what had happened. Do you want to talk about it?"

It.

Maura bowed her head and closed her eyes, finding it impossible not to think about that day.

February, a year ago—

The principal had shown up in the middle of Spanish, interrupting a lesson on verb conjugation, and asked her to collect her things and come with her.

"Am I in trouble?" Maura had asked, once they were alone in the hallway.

"No, honey. You're not in trouble." The principal hadn't said anything more, though she had worn a pinched look on her face. When she put her hand on Maura's back and said in a low voice, "Follow me," she knew that something was terribly wrong.

Ms. Oliver and her mom were waiting for them.

"Mom?" Maura had asked, confused. Her mother's eyes were red, and she held a crumpled tissue in her lap. "What's going on? Is it Dad?"

Her mind had immediately gone there because something happening to either of her parents seemed like the worst thing imaginable. And it was the only explanation for why her mom was there, in the principal's office, at her school, in the middle of the day.

Her father hadn't shown up to work that morning, even though his car was parked in its usual spot. A co-worker discovered the driver side door wide open and his satchel on the ground, next to the stainless-steel mug on its side with coffee spilling out onto the snow and asphalt. Calls and texts had gone unanswered for hours. No one had seen or heard from him all day.

It was as though he had vanished.

Maura opened her eyes and focused on Ms. Oliver, blinking away the memories. "Leanne said something to me at the assembly. Or she tried to, but I wouldn't let her."

"Why not?" Ms. Oliver asked, jotting something else on the notepad.

"Because I didn't want to hear what she was going to say," Maura snapped, as though it should be obvious. She cleared her throat. "I'm sorry."

Ms. Oliver waved her hand. Then she shifted in her seat, crossing one leg over the other. Maura noticed that the toe of her black flat was scuffed, the edge of the sole looking a bit frayed. They didn't pay her enough to deal with everyone's problems, least of all hers. "How do you know what she was going to say?" she asked.

"Because Leanne is my best friend. I just know."

Ms. Oliver bobbed her head. "Fair enough. I have a best friend, too. I swear we can read each other's minds sometimes. What is it that you didn't want to hear then?"

Maura took a deep breath and this time let it explode from her mouth. Her head hurt too much for this early in the day. "Leanne was going to say that maybe the situation with my dad and those girls is somehow related."

Ms. Oliver raised her brows. "What do you think?"

"I think it's bullshit," Maura said. "My dad walked out on my mom and me more than a year ago, long before any of those girls disappeared. End of story. I don't know why Leanne even brought it up."

"I admit it sounds like a long shot," Ms. Oliver said, "but it's not entirely impossible. The police never solved your father's case, am I right? And the evidence they do have . . ." Her words trailed off and she leaned forward. "Maura, do you really believe he just left?"

Maura stared at her, not answering. Unless her father magically reappeared, she didn't want the police to ever solve his case. As long as he remained missing, as long as she believed he had decided to leave them, there was still hope he was alive somewhere, even if he didn't want to be part of their lives anymore. She just couldn't bear to say goodbye.

Grabbing her bag, she stood. "I should get to class."

Ms. Oliver opened her mouth. "Maura, I˗˗"

Before she had a chance to finish her thought, though, Maura yanked open the door and fled the office.

*****

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