Page 59 of Before She Disappeared

“And yet Angelique went missing shortly thereafter. Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”

He winces. I can’t even imagine how hard his job must be, trying to both corral and inspire hundreds of at-risk teens. Wanting to make a difference, knowing there are limits. And then when one of the kids who by all accounts should make it simply vanishes one fall afternoon... I have a feeling Frédéric has done nothing but replay the memories he has of Angelique over and over again.

“I wish I had noticed more,” he concedes now. “Paid more attention, made more effort. But Angelique, she was a good kid. She came on time. She stayed with her program. She produced many beautiful drawings. Lillian posted several around the halls. I remember congratulating Angelique on her work. She seemed shy, but again, not one to get into trouble. My time, my job, is spent more with those teens.” He shrugs. “It is regretful, but it is what it is.”

“You have problems with gang activity here?” I change gears.

“We are zero tolerance. Any gang signs, colors, activity leads to immediate expulsion. The kids know. Off the grounds, yes, there are problems. But when they enter this property... If they want to shoot hoops, they play nice. It works more effectively than you think.”

“Are there times all the kids intermix? I mean, regardless of fashion camp versus boxing camp or whatnot?”

“Lunch is within each group. It makes it easier for us to monitor. But there are breaks during the day. Kids wander. Some might go watch a part of a soccer game or gather to enjoy the sun outside. They are teens, and we want the programs to be fun, not just...” He struggles for the word.

“Glorified lockup?” I volunteer.

He sighs but doesn’t disagree.

“Can I get a copy of this list?” I point to the registration list for fashion camp.

“The police have it.”

“I don’t want to bother them. I’m trying to find new leads to move us forward, not make them go backward.”

He hesitates again, but my argument is a decent one. He prints me out a fresh list.

“One last thing. If you don’t mind. A simple memory exercise. You know Angelique’s face?”

He nods.

“Now picture her, here, the last time you saw her. Where is she?”

It takes him a moment, but he complies, even going so far as to close his eyes. “Angelique is sitting outside on a yellow bench. She has her sketch pad on her lap, her head bent over as she draws. As I walk by, making my rounds, she doesn’t look up but continues to sketch, very fast, very focused. I can hear the scratch of charcoal against the page. I remember thinking she looked like a true artist, with a vision in her head she must capture immediately, before it disappeared forever. I was impressed.”

“Could you see the drawing?”

“No, but she was wearing her hair down. She had thick ringlets that hung in front of her like a curtain.”

“Were there other kids around her?”

Silence as he digs deeper into his recollection. “I see three boys. They have a hacky sack and are kicking it around. Two more girls, sitting on another bench. One is giggling. There are other kids lounging in the grass. The weather is very beautiful.”

“Who is closest to Angelique? A boy? A girl?”

“I see only the three boys and they are busy with their game.”

“Anyone else? Someone near Angelique, or maybe—like you—noticing Angelique even if she doesn’t notice them?”

Slowly, he says: “There’s another girl. Seated on the ground further down, her back against the building. She is also drawing, but she is in the shade, not the sun. She is looking in Angelique’s direction. She is watching Angelique draw. When I walk by, however, the girl ducks her head quickly. Too quickly, I think. I’m about to stop, push a little, then I hear yelling in the soccer field. I turn and head there.”

“What does this other girl look like?”

“Another teen. I remember seeing her in the fashion camp as well.” Frédéric opens his eyes, shakes his head. “But I don’t remember her face. I’m not even sure I ever saw it fully. I could always find her in a crowd, however, by looking for her hat. Every day, regardless of weather or conditions, she wore the same red ball cap. And yes, now that you mention it, she was often staring at Angelique.”

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