Page 29 of If Anything Happens To Me

“What girl in the bed?” I asked.

“She had a bed, we had mattresses on the floor.”

“Who was the girl?” I asked Iris, but she shook her head, unable to recall more.

I glanced back at the ghost sign and read the words on it. “Who were the Sibylline sisters?” I wondered out loud.

“No idea, and I can’t get enough service here to Google it,” Matt said, looking up from his phone.

As I gazed at the wall, I saw that there were several doors leading into the row of buildings. I pointed that out to Matt and Iris.

“This section of waterfront is only a few blocks long,” Matt said. “Why don’t we park, knock on some of those doors, and ask about the sign? Someone who lives or works here might know what the sign means.”

I looked at Iris, but she was standing there completely frozen and pale. It must have been a shock to see those ghost signs, the images she remembered from the attic. I didn’t want to leave the only spot Iris had seemed to recognize, but it felt important that the three of us stay together.

“Okay,” I said. “Let’s go park.” We got back into the Jeep and Matt started driving again.

Suddenly, Iris grabbed the back of my seat.

“Get us out of here!” she screamed.

“Why? What is it?” I asked.

“That!” she said, pointing at a dusty blue van parked in a garage. It looked as if it hadn’t been driven in ages; it didn’t even have a front license plate.

“What about it?” Matt asked, startled.

“That blue van,” she said.

“Like the one in your nightmare?” I asked. “Were you taken in a blue van?”

She looked terrified. “I think so,” she said. “Or did I just dream it?” She looked at Matt again. “We can’t stay here!” she insisted.

I wasn’t sure if this blue van in particular was dangerous, but I wanted to help calm Iris down. I saw how distraught she was.

“We shouldn’t go knocking on doors yet,” I said to Matt. “Iris needs a break. Let’s leave and we’ll come back later.”

“Where should we go?” Matt asked.

“Somewhere no one will see us, okay?” Iris asked, her voice trembling. “They’re following us. I feel it. They’re here.”

“Okay, Iris. We’ll go somewhere safe and hidden,” I said, even as my heart was racing.Werewe being followed?

“I’ll take us to Osprey Hill,” Matt said.

We smiled at each other. In spite of the stress, all I could think of in that moment was that Matt remembered a place that meant so much to me—because we had been there together.

Osprey Hill was across the Thames River, in a tiny little fishing village overlooking the spot where Long Island Sound, Block Island Sound, and the Atlantic Ocean converge. At the top of the hill was the town warehouse, where my grandfather had worked long ago. The warehouse held buoys and mushroom anchors for moorings, lengths of anchor chain thicker than a bicycle tire, old stop signs, orange cones for traffic control—which was a laugh, because the town of Pequod was so small and sleepy, the only busy times were weekends when seafood-craving tourists descended.

I had loved the village since childhood. But last year it had taken on magical status: I’d brought Matt here. Right before school started up again. We had gotten chocolate chip cookies from the Butterfly Café and drove to Osprey Hill to feel the salt breeze and look out to sea. We had parked up here in his Jeep, and I had loved the song playing over the Bluetooth: “Lost in the 16th” by Margot François. The lyrics were about change, but the feeling it gave me was about love.

Now Matt drove up the narrow gravel driveway and parked behind the warehouse. The three of us got out and walked to a grove of cedars. Matt had the binoculars he kept in his glove compartment, to use for birding. From here, we were hidden, but we could see the harbor, the lighthouse, and all the way out to Fishers Island. We could also see all the roads down below, winding through the village.

Matt raised the binoculars and scanned the area.

“What are you looking for?” I asked.

“Iris seemed pretty freaked out back in New London,” Matt whispered to me. “Do you think anyone could really have spotted her there? Is someone following us?”

---