Page 67 of My Heart to Find

“She did.” I smile a little. “She told me for weeks after to call you—and I kept saying I was too shy. I lost the book, you know. By the time I decided to be brave, I couldn’t find it. Turned out, Esme had been sick over it and Mum had thrown it out. She told me a week or so later, said she’d buy me a new book.” I’d felt raw when I’d realized that it had meant I’d have no way to contact Damien. “I did try looking for you on Facebook,” I say. “Couldn’t find you.”

“Not on there.” He gives a small smile.

“And I tried everything I could think of.” I’m almost embarrassed to admit just how far I went—even getting the bus to Dorset one day, not realizing just how big the county is, and wandering around for a few hours, absolutely convinced that Fate would have me bump into Damien.

“But we’re here now,” he says, and I wonder what his reaction would be if he knew that I kind of went into stalker territory before.

The sky darkens more, and I look up at it. Looks like it’s going to rain.

“Do you want to come inside?” Damien asks. “My apartment’s on the second floor. And Cody, my roommate, is out. Got bowling club. Didn’t even know that’s a thing.”

I look at the block behind him. Do I want to go inside? I’m already wearing my outdoor clothes, and I’m going to change when I get back. So, it’d be safe to, right?

I nod.

Damien’s shoulders drop a little, and he looks more relaxed as I follow him into the building. We take the stairs, Damien asking me about the novel I’m reading—because of course he knows I’m reading one. So, then I start talking aboutStillhouse Lake, and I just get carried away talking about the books I love.

“What?” I ask, when Damien looks at me with the cutest smile as we stop outside the door to his apartment. “I’ve been talking too much, haven’t I?”

“You just seem more like you,” he says, putting his key in the lock. “It’s a good thing.”

He opens the door, steps inside, and I follow him.

Air-freshener assaults my nose first. A lot of it. I nearly start coughing.

Damien’s eyes widen and water. “Cody,” he says. “He’s always doing that. Says it’ll smell damp if he doesn’t. Not that there’s any damp here anyway.”

I follow him to the kitchen. He offers me a cup of tea, but I decline. I’m already on high alert, just being somewhere new. I need to take baby steps.

Damien makes his own cup of tea, then we head to the living room. After a moment’s thought, I take my coat off and sit down, folding my coat carefully over my lap.

“You okay?” he asks.

I nod, smiling. “What’s this?” I stare at the coffee table. It’s covered in newspaper cuttings.Everythingabout Marnie Wathem’s disappearance that’s been in a newspaper seems to be on his table. Along with print-outs of articles and a school photo.

“Just a bit of background research ready,” he says. “I am Damien the Detective, after all. And I never realized how much research a podcast episode takes.”

The podcast. My heart does a little flip. “We’re actually doing this podcast?”

“We told Trevor we were,” he says. “And someone has to.”

He smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes now. There’s sadness in them, I realize with a jolt, and I find myself leaning forward.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just... I’m worried,” he says. “Worried that Trevor is right and somethinghashappened to Marnie. I mean, the gravity of it all is really sinking in. And if she is in danger, then she’s only got us—amateurs—investigating.” He shakes his head. “I’m just worried we’re too late.”

“Too late?” I stare at him, my mouth suddenly feeling too dry, kind of like sandpaper. “What do you mean?”

But I know what he means. Of course I do.

He locks eyes with me. “I’ve got such a bad feeling. You know I’m walking the same dogs she used to, right? Well, every time I go on that route, the one she last took, I feel like I’m doing something wrong.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m replacing her, just stepping into her shoes, like I’m a secret accomplice of whoever it was that wanted her gone. I know it’s silly, thinking that, but I can’t help it. It just makes it seem more real. Do you feel the weight of this all?” he asks. “Of us being the only ones looking into Marnie?”

“I haven’t really thought about it,” I say, and I feel bad, because I should’ve been. Because all along, this has been more of a fantasy to me, right? Something I’d do if I was healthy—save Marnie. I’ve never really stopped and thought about what would happen if Damien and Ididdiscover that Marnie was in danger. If we did find proof. Because this isn’t going to be like one of those made-up scenarios, where I was living in cloud cuckoo land, believing that I’d find her and save her and I wouldn’t be held back by my Lyme.

---