Page 20 of If Anything Happens To Me

Not even Noreen knew about it. I would have felt guilty for taking the money, but with Eloise gone and Gram unable to go out, I figured no one would miss it right now. I jammed the cash into my jeans pocket, then sat down at the table. Iris was still looking out the window.

Eloise’s and my bird photographs hung on the wall. My sister was so much better at photography than I was. I stared at one she had taken at the blind, of a red-breasted nuthatch caught in the net.

My phone buzzed, and I saw Matt’s name on the screen.

“Hi, Matt,” I said. My voice cracked betweenhiandMatt.

“Oli, what’s wrong?” he asked.

I wanted to start as lightheartedly as I could, just asking for a ride, thinking that Iris and I would tell him, as we drove around, the whole story.

But hearing his voice broke something inside me. Tears came but didn’t fall, and I tried to swallow down a sob.

“I need help,” I said.

“Tell me where you are,” he said. “And I’ll be right there.”

So I did, and he was.

“You okay?” Matt asked as I opened the front door of his Jeep. He’d just pulled into my driveway.

Crying embarrasses me and makes me feel like the center of attention. Eloise was the one who bubbled over; she wore her feelings on the outside, and people loved her for it. I was shyer, kept most things to myself. So in the time it took Matt to drive here, I made sure I was back to my usual calm self.

I nodded and went straight to introductions.

“Matt, this is Iris,” I said. “And, Iris . . .”

“Nice to meet you,” they both said at the same time.

Then they laughed awkwardly. Obviously something was wrong; Matt knew it, and Iris and I certainly did—but I was glad the ice was broken. I got into the passenger seat next to Matt, and Iris got into the back seat.

I felt Matt looking at me, waiting to hear what I’d meant byI need help. My mouth was dry; it was hard to talk.

“I guess Oli told you what’s going on,” Iris said. “She wants to call the police, but I said no. And I don’t want you to, either.”

“The police?” Matt asked, sounding shocked. “I thought we were done with them. They grilled us pretty hard already.”

“No, she means because of what happened to me,” Iris said. “I’m sure Oli filled you in.”

“No,” Matt said. “She didn’t.”

The Matt-ness of the situation had me tongue-tied. It’s one thing to call a friend for help. It’s another when it’s the boy you like. Matt put the Jeep into reverse and pulled onto my street. “Where are we going?” he asked.

“I’m not sure,” I said. “And that’s what this is all about. The reason I called you.”

“Not being sure?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said. “We’re going on . . . a sort of scavenger hunt.”

“Like in a game?” he asked.

“Anything but a game,” I said.

“We’re searching for my memory,” Iris said. “And for my sister.”

“Okay, that’s either mysterious or creepy or both,” Matt said. “Can you tell me more, or am I supposed to guess?”

We hit the main road. I pointed toward the Braided Woods. “Let’s start there,” I said. “Where I found Iris.”

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