Page 26 of Before She Disappeared

The shorter girl stirs. She’s pretty but not stunning. No doubt she and Angelique formed the background for their flashier friend. But that also meant of the three, she and Angelique shared the tighter bond.

“Please,” I say quietly. I spread my hands in a show of submission. “Just a couple of questions.” I direct my gaze at the tall stunner. “Kyra.” I address her directly just so she knows that I know that she’s already lied to me.

The shorter girl, Marjolie, gazes up at her friend. Her glossy black hair is a riot of unbelievably tiny ringlets. It’s a nice fit with her round face, clear brown eyes. I want to lean in and tell her that she’s beautiful, too, but I already know that’s not how the world feels to her. Her friend is gorgeous. She’s cute. Kyra leads, Marjolie follows. She must miss Angelique terribly.

“Fine,” Kyra exclaims suddenly. “But you’re wasting your time.”

“Because Angelique doesn’t want to be found?”

“Because we don’t need some skinny-ass white lady trying to save her soul by slumming it in the ghetto. Come on, have you looked in a mirror? This ain’t your neighborhood.” She delivers this with the kind of disdain only a teenager can muster.

I take the second hit, surrendering the battle but focusing on the war as I lead Kyra and Marjolie away from the pack. Their classmates have already grown bored with the show. My initial appearance had been interesting, but Angelique’s case is old news. Nothing of interest here.

“How long have you known Angelique?” I ask casually.

“Six years.” Marjolie speaks first, her voice soft, her gaze cast down. “I live near her in Mattapan. My family is Haitian, too.”

Kyra shrugs. “Two years, when we both started at Boston Academy. I used to steal Angel’s notes. Eventually she began giving them to me. Told me she never minded helping a friend. So then, you know, we became friends. Angel’s like’s that. She has this way...” Kyra shrugs again. “She’s way too good to be, like, missing, you know? But she’s got hidden reserves. She’s gonna come home, just you wait and see.” Kyra’s nostrils flare. I get the impression this has been a lot of words for her, and she meant every one of them. Beside her, Marjolie is nodding.

“I’ve worked fourteen missing persons cases,” I volunteer. “All around the country. Missing kids, missing adults. You know the one thing they all had in common?”

The girls wait. I have their attention now.

“The victims’ own families, even the ones they loved and who loved them, still didn’t know them. Not all the pieces, the jagged edges, the still-forming dreams. I think in the end, no parent or sibling truly can. That’s where friends come in. Angelique’s aunt, her brother, they see what they’ve always seen, combined with what they want to see. But you two... You knew Angelique. You are the family she chose for herself.”

Marjolie looks like she’s going to cry. Even Kyra has lost her edge. She appears younger. Less certain. She glances at Marjolie, who now appears scared. Why scared?

A bell rings, shrill and insistent. Behind us, the kids begin gathering up their belongings.

I make it quick. “Did Angelique have enemies at school? Kids who threatened her? Kids she threatened?”

“We stuck together,” Kyra says. “Watched each other’s backs. And don’t you go talking smack about my girl—Angel never threatened no one in her life.”

“What about gangs?”

“No way. Academy’s neutral ground. Principal Bastion says first time she catches wind of a gang sign or threat, that’s it, we’ll be wearing school uniforms.”

I translate that to mean the uniforms are the threat, and Kyra and her peers are taking it seriously.

Marjolie adds, “Angel wasn’t the kind to call attention to herself. She’s woke, you know. Sensitive to others, but unlike some others who always gotta be making a fuss.” She and Kyra exchange knowing glances. Marjolie continues. “Most of the kids in our school, they didn’t even know Angel’s name till the police showed up asking questions.”

I understand about half of what Marjolie said, but with the sea of kids preparing to exit, now is not the time. “Boyfriend?” I prod.

The girls exchange a glance. Marjolie is uncomfortable. Kyra sets her jaw.

“Yes, Angel had a boyfriend,” I fill in.

“No,” Kyra corrects. “At least...”

“We don’t know,” Marjolie clarifies quickly. “Angel came back to school last year... different. We teased her—”

“Had to be a boy,” Kyra interjects flatly.

“She said no—”

“Lost the big V. Still think so.” Kyra glances haughtily at her friend. “Not gonna convince me otherwise. Good for her.”

“She would’ve told us,” Marjolie insists. “Why keep it a secret?”

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