"Right." Monty sprawls across my bed while Nico claims the chair by my desk. "So what's the deal with the car crash? You got a good look at it. We were on the other side of school and got forced into class before we could get out and look."
"Missing plates. No key in the ignition." I pull up another search window. "But that's not important right now."
They exchange looks, a silent conversation I catch in my peripheral vision.
"Okay ..." Nico leans forward. "So whatisimportant right now?"
"Research." I turn the laptop to show them the empty search results. "She doesn't exist."
“Shewho?” Nico says at the same time Monty speaks.
"What do you mean?"
"No Facebook. No Instagram. No social media at all. Nothing."
"Maybe she uses a different name?" Nico suggests.
"Already tried variations." My fingers move across the keyboard, pulling up the school's poorly secured database. "Look at this. Straight As across every subject. Perfect attendance. But no clubs. No teams. Not even a yearbook photo."
"So she's a nerd." Monty shrugs. "Why do you care?"
I ignore him, switching to DMV records. "No license. Nopermit applications." Another window. "No bank accounts."
"How are you even—" Nico starts, but I continue talking over him.
"She doesn't have a phone either. At least not in her name or her father's."
"Dude." Monty sits up fully now. "What's with the full investigation? Usually you just mess with people for a day or two and move on."
I pull up property records next. "They pay their rent in cash. Monthly. Who does that?"
"Someone who doesn't want to be found?" Nico suggests.
"Exactly." The room falls quiet except for my typing as I dig deeper.
Here is a girl who excels in every class but somehow maintains complete anonymity. Who can dance like she owns the world, but shrinks away from any attention. Who exists in our school like a ghost—present but unseen.
Hours pass by. At some point, Monty orders pizza. I barely notice them eating it.
"So much for the lake," Nico mutters around nine.
"You can go." I scan through another database.
"And miss whatever this is?" Monty gestures at my screen. "You haven't been this interested in anything since ..."
He trails off because we all know I'veneverbeenthisinterested in anything.
"I'm out," Nico announces, standing. "This is getting weird, even by your standards."
Monty snickers. “He’s got a point, Wren. Don’t you think you’re taking this a little too far?”
I wave them off, already opening another search window. “Go home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Their footsteps fade down the stairs, followed by the front door closing.
Each piece of missing information is a pressure point waitingto be pressed. Each absence a question that begs to be asked.
No one tries this hard to disappear without a reason. And I intend to discover exactly what that reason is.