Page 84 of Dangerous Pursuit

That’s what we’re calling it, even though this feels nothing like home, because what else are we going to do? They gave us alist of places to move that were easy to stay hidden and good for integration into the community. I chose the farthest option from San Diego, which happened to be Presque Isle, Maine—literally the farthest place save for Alaska.

“My first job was canceled. I’m leaving soon, but it was nice to relax and take my time this morning. Did you sleep well?”

“I did, actually,” I answer, grabbing coffee and plopping on a stool at the bar. This house is so different from our old one. It’s one level instead of two, and we didn’t have a kitchen island, which I’ve grown fond of. The place came furnished, and everything was nicer than what we had before. I’m not sure when it’ll start feeling like home, but we’ll have plenty of time to find out.

“Good. You look… better today. It’s nice to see you adjusting. How’s work?” What she means is that I usually look like hell in the mornings because I cry every night, but she doesn’t need to say it. I know she’s been worried about me, and I get it—she’s my mom, it’s her job. But worrying about it doesn’t do any good.

“It’s work. Just something to keep me occupied.” I shrug in response and see the sadness in her eyes. She knows I’m unhappy. I stopped hiding anything from her after everything happened, and that included my depression. Look where it got me last time I tried to keep things from her. Now, I just let it all out. The good, the bad, and the ugly—it is what it is.

“What about your coworkers? Are you going to hang out with anyone? Maybe go do something fun.” She means well.

“Mom, I’m fine. I’m busy with summer school anyway. I could have my degree in two years if I keep this up. I think that’s a better way to spend my time.” And the only way I want to spend it.

“Mija, making new friends doesn’t make your old ones any less important. You can have both.” How wrong she is.

“I don’t have any old friends, Mom. If I did, I’d call them, send postcards, and message them. Except I’m not allowed to, and I don’t even have social media accounts. Do you know how weird people think I am when they find out I’m not on social media? They look at me like I’m from another planet.”

“Now you’re just being ridiculous. Lots of people don’t have social media.”

“Mom, I’m eighteen, not fifty. At my age, everyone has something.” I sigh. “Look, seriously, it doesn’t matter. Like you said, I’m adjusting… but I’m just not the same girl I was in San Diego. I’m the new Mary, just like you’re the new Sara. We’re both adapting.”

She gives up after that and leaves me alone. I may look better this morning, but it didn’t take her long to see my attitude wasn’t. I tried to be resilient and keep an open mind for the first few weeks we were here. For my mom’s sake, I attempted to look at the bright side, to be positive—and then, suddenly, it hit me like a ton of bricks. This is my life. But it’s not… and it fucking sucks.

Jackson

It’s been sixty-six days—and you can bet I’m counting. I’m no closer to finding Mia’s dad than I was on day one. I’ve been through three private investigators, and not one has found a single lead. I’m about to call a fourth when the answer stares me in the face. I’m no detective, but something Agent Bale said resonates with me: I’m more incentivized than anyone.

If there’s one person who will move mountains to find Roland Marcos, it’s me. I don’t know how the fuck to do it, but I have an idea where to start. I grab Mia’s personnel file from my desk to see which high school she attended. Bingo. It’s almost lunchtime, which means I’d better get a move on.

I’m just in time to see students filing out for the off-campus lunch. I hurry toward the front of the parking lot and stop the first kid I see.

“Hey there, I was hoping you could help me find someone. He’s a senior, his name is Walker, gay, tall, good-looking…”

“Yeah, he usually leaves for lunch. He’ll probably be out any minute—oh, there he is. Hey, Walker!” the guy shouts. “This guy is looking for you.”

He spots me, and I see his eyes widen in surprise. I walk over, relieved at having found him so quickly.

“Hey, are you free for lunch? I thought we could go somewhere to talk,” I say as he approaches.

“Wow, I didn’t think I’d see you again.” He’s skeptical, but there’s curiosity there.

“I think we have some catching up to do. What do you say?”

“Yeah. Damn, it’s just… you bring it all back. It sucks, you know?”Boy, do I.

“Yeah, come on, I’ll buy.” Fuck does it bring it back. But if it gets me closer to bringingherback, that’s all that matters.

We make small talk on the short drive, waiting to bring up Mia until we sit down with our food. We pick an outdoor table and take our first few bites before diving into the difficult topic. But even talking about her is better than nothing.

“So, how have you been? You were close to Mia. Did you know you were the only person she said goodbye to?” I shake my head in disbelief as he sighs.

“Shit. Yeah. I’m sorry about that. It sucks not knowing how she’s doing, not being able to call her. I’ll go to send her a text out of habit sometimes, and then, bam, it hits me all over again. What about you? Honestly, I figured you’d move on right away. No offense.”

“None taken. But no, there’s no moving on for me. I’m not letting her go.”Ever.

“You don’t have a choice. She’s gone. You plan on staying celibate for the next two to three years? And what if she decides to stay in her new life instead of coming back? Did you know they give her that option?”

“I’ll wait however long it takes. I’m not giving up on us. I’m assuming she told you what happened?” He nods. “It’s my fault she’s gone, but Iwillfix this and then pray she forgives me. When I said I was all in, I meant it.”

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