Page 19 of See How They Hide

“Chris is a way station, and I still need to get people out, even without your help. You’re dead, right? If anyone finds out you’re alive, it will jeopardize all of us.”

“Just do it,” Riley mumbled to herself and opened the car door. The cold made her shiver. She pulled her jacket tight, lowered her cap over her ears, and stared. Willed Chris to turn on the lights, open the door, smile his warm, rare smile.

The dark house felt empty. That didn’t mean Chris was in trouble. It just meant he wasn’t home. He could be helping Thalia with another rescue, or taking someone to their new home. Or they heard that Jane was dead and were warning the others.

But Riley couldn’t shake the feeling that everyone she loved was in danger.

She approached the silent house. It wasn’t completely dark, she realized as she neared; night-lights in the kitchen and bedrooms cast faint glows. After walking around the house and determining that all was still, Riley retrieved the key from under a small statue near the kitchen door and let herself in.

The house felt...empty. Unused. Clean and tidy, but a scent of dust that she didn’t expect, and a chill because the heat had been turned low, as if Chris had been gone for some time.

Riley didn’t turn on any lights. Hell, she didn’t even know if she should be here, feeling like she was violating his privacy in the worst way.

Yet, she’d known Chris her entire life. Trusted him even more than Thalia, who was blood. Chris was the calm, cool, reasonable adult whenever she and Thalia had clashed. She hadn’t seen him in three and a half years, but that didn’t matter—she hadn’t seen him in half a decade before she escaped, and it wasn’t weird. He was like the big brother she never had and always wanted.

“Chris,” she tried to call out, but her voice was a whisper. “Chris, it’s Riley.”

Silence. No one was here.

Riley walked to the guest room where there were two double beds. She and Jane had been here for two weeks before they went to Ashland. It had been the first time she’d felt safe since before her grandmother died, but now as she sat on one of the beds and looked around the spare room, she’d never felt more alone—which was saying something. Her plan was dependent on Chris’s help, and Chris wasn’t here. She should wait for him, but time was ticking. She didn’t know when he’d be home. It could be days...weeks. When Thalia said jump, he said how high. It had always been that way. Riley didn’t know why he trusted her so much when she could be such a bitch. But he did.

They knew things they never told her. They had suffered things she hadn’t suffered.

In pain came understanding.

ThatRiley understood far too well.

She needed a place to sleep, at least for tonight. The last five days, since she learned Jane had been killed, had been a whirlwind. Packing up in France, getting a last-minute ticket that cost a small fortune. Sleeping on planes, in airports, and even in the rental car last night. Riley needed a bed, a good meal, a shower. Maybe Chris would be home in the morning.

She could wait until morning.

Peace in her decision settled over her and Riley realized she was starving. She hadn’t eaten all day, and it had caught up with her.

The refrigerator was nearly empty, confirming her theory that Chris was on a rescue or relocation trip with Thalia. Fortunately, the pantry and freezer were well stocked. She cooked up rotini pasta and added frozen broccoli halfway through, drained everything, and tossed it with olive oil and seasonings. The process of cooking calmed her.

She ate in the dark, the small bulb above the stove providing the only light. Then she cleaned the dishes and put everything away.

Her stomach was still unsettled.

Something was wrong. She had sensed it the minute she arrived, but had avoided looking for answers, holding on to false hope that Chris’s return was imminent.

At midnight, she couldn’t avoid it anymore.

One of the rules Riley lived by—everyone who escaped Havenwood lived by—was no social media. She had a smartphone with full privacy settings, which didn’t mean much because if someone was determined, they could find a way in. But even with all the protections, she was doubly careful. No social media. No internet searches. A work email she used only on her museum computer. No email on her phone, but she could log in to her account with a private web browser. Every single time, she would change her password and log out.

But Chris wasn’t here, and that was unusual, so Riley logged into his computer as a guest and searched news sites. Immediately, her blood ran cold at an article posted this morning.

Monday, March 31

Body found by hikers off the Atalaya Trail identified as local teacher Chris Crossman

Chris couldn’t be dead. Not Chris. She read on.

Friday morning, three students from St. John’s College were hiking on the Atalaya Trail when they spotted the remains of thirty-two-year-old Chris Crossman, identified today by the Office of the Medical Investigator.

Santa Fe police are working with the county sheriff’s office to investigate Crossman’s death, which has been ruled a homicide. The OMI said cause of death was a fatal knife wound to his throat, though time of death is indeterminate.

Crossman, a substitute high school math teacher, has been a resident of Santa Fe, New Mexico, for ten years. He hadn’t been reported missing and had no scheduled classes this week. The last time anyone saw him was Friday afternoon, a week before his body was discovered, when he finished a two-week teaching assignment at the main high school.

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