Page 34 of Good and Gone

“You can't stay in this room forever,” he says softly. “You have children. And a husband.”

“I know that,” I say, pulling the covers over my head.

He flings the curtains open, flooding the room with light. “They already lost you once, honey. Don't make them think they lost you again.”

“I’m not,” I say. “I’m just tired.” It’s the truth. I’ve never been so exhausted in my entire life. Even thinking feels like an impossible feat. I sleep twenty hours a day and the other four I lay here trying to summon the will to get up. “I’m trying to remember.”

“Well, have you?”

“The SUV was black with silver door handles. I remember that.”

“That’s good. Shall I call Barry?”

“What’s the point? They think I'm crazy. Even him.”

“They don’t.”

“Yes, they do.”

“So? What? You're trying to prove their point?”

“I heard him talking to Mom the other night.”

Thinking of my mother makes me sad, and I immediately wish I hadn’t brought it up. I wish I could roll up what I said and take it back. My poor mother. She’s trying to be her usual upbeat self, springing into action like she always does, holding it all together, but I can see by the fresh lines on her face that it’s wearing on her. It’s crushing her.

“He told Mom there’s a growing movement online. People are calling for me to admit that I faked my abduction.”

“Why would you have faked any of this, Hailey? Anyone with a pair of eyes can see that you’re not okay.”

“For followers, why else?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. When have you ever cared what people on the internet say?”

“Since forever, Dad. It’s how I’ve made a living.”

“Well, who cares what they say? I don’t.”

“You've read the comments.”

“I’ve read them, yes. I've seen the news. So what? You're my daughter. I know the truth.”

“They're calling me a slut. A fraud. A liar. Even you, Dad, you think it's possible, don't you?” I ask rhetorically.

“It's just a story, Hailey. That’s all. A story that sells.”

“Even Barry Coburn thinks I’m crazy,” I say, tears streaming down my face. “And he’s with the FBI. I heard him. He asked Mom what she thought.Was I capable?He certainly didn’t sound convinced that it was just astory.Maybe he’s right. Maybe Iamcrazy,”

“Pay no attention to what any of those people think, Hailey. They are wrong.”

A tear trickles down my cheek.

He sits down next to me. “Time has a way of working out the truth.”

“What if it doesn’t?”

“It will. You know me, Hailey. I don't trust the media. Not one bit. But I trust you. And I always will.”

I scoot over to the edge of the bed and lay my head in his lap the way I used to when I was a little girl. “Thank you.”

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