Page 36 of Did You See Evie

“I’m fine,” I say. “I’ve just had very little sleep.”

Only a couple of hours, I’m guessing. And every moment since I’ve been awake, I’ve been under an overwhelming amount of stress. My body is struggling to keep up.

“I don’t know if you should drive,” Nadia says. “I can take you?—”

“I’ll be fine,” I say. Even if Nadia wasn’t involved in Evie’s disappearance, it doesn’t mean I trust her. “My house isn’t very far from here.”

That part isn’t exactly true. It’s a twenty-minute drive, but I’m hyper-aware of my surroundings, staying alert.

When I do finally return home, I notice Connor’s car still isn’t in the driveway. I don’t have time to stop and think about where he is. As soon as I make it up the stairs to our bedroom, I’m overcome with sleep.

NINETEEN

There’s a pounding pain in my head; the annoying sensation rouses me from a restless sleep.

Groggy and unbalanced, I wander into the kitchen for a glass of water, the pour from the sink’s spout failing to move fast enough. I’m so dehydrated I feel hungover, even though I can barely remember the last time I had a sip of alcohol. With each thirsty gulp I swallow, memories from yesterday return.

Evie. The lock-in. Nadia. That damned door.

None of it feels real, and yet the nauseous feeling in my gut tells me it is. Evie is gone, and there’s no telling where she might be.

When I returned from Nadia’s, my mind and body were so overwhelmed I went straight to sleep. I must have slept close to fifteen hours yet I still feel exhausted.

There’s a knock at the front door. I remain standing in the kitchen for a few seconds, my mind struggling to process the sound, before walking into the foyer. Just as I’m about to open it, someone raps against the door a second time, the sound reawakening my stubborn headache.

“I’m here,” I say, pulling open the door. Bursts of sunlight invade the house, and I raise a palm to my throbbing head. A woman I’ve never seen before stands in front of me. It takes another several seconds for me to register what she’s holding in her hand: a badge.

“Detective Fields with Manning PD,” she says, flapping her hand shut and sliding the badge into her navy jacket. “Cassandra?”

“Yes,” I say, my voice not quite awake.

“You were one of the chaperones at Friday night’s lock-in, correct?”

“I already spoke with the officers at the scene.”

“I know. I’ve read through your statement,” she says. “I’ll be heading the Evie Masters case. Care if I come inside?”

I don’t reply, simply move back to allow her to walk past. As she enters the house, her head twitches from left to right like a nervous bird, surveying the area.

“Beautiful home,” she says, a smidge of skepticism in her voice. “Very clean.”

“It’s not hard to keep house when you’re constantly at the basketball court.”

“You’re the team’s head coach, right?” she says, even though she must already know the answer. She sits in the center of the sofa, and I burrow into the armchair across from her. “That’s why you were chaperoning the lock-in.”

“Yes. I’ve been at Manning Academy for four years now.”

“Good school. Parents must pay an arm and a leg for their kids to go there.”

“Most of them,” I say. But not Evie. She gets lumped into the preppy stereotype of a Manning Academy student, even though she’s unlike the rest. “Let’s get the questions out of the way. I’m fighting a migraine on very little sleep.”

“I can only imagine.” Fields leans back, resting her palms on her knees. “The past twenty-four hours must feel like a nightmare. Now that I’m heading the investigation, it’s important I hear every detail in your own words.”

I retell the events from Friday night until Saturday morning, just as I told the other officers yesterday. Everything except that I willingly opened a door near the computer lab. The memory of doing so flashes through my mind, and I can’t help wondering if, regardless of what Nadia says, I somehow contributed to Evie’s abduction.

When I finish answering her questions, I turn the tables on her. “What have you figured out? Surely you’ve uncovered something since yesterday.”

“Unfortunately, no.” Fields sits up for the first time, but refuses to look at me, instead studying the pattern on the rug beneath her feet. “With this age, there’s always the possibility she ran away.”

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