Page 39 of Did You See Evie

“Again?”

“We both know he’s done it before. I’ve seen other marks,” she said. “This is just the first time I’ve asked you about them.”

“Dad just gets a little worked up before bed,” I said, storming off in the direction of the mall. “He doesn’t mean to do it.”

“But he does it. Over and over again,” she said. “He won’t stop either.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do,” she said. “I’ve watched my mom’s boyfriends do it to her before.”

Nadia comparing my situation to what was going on with her own family infuriated me even more. She’d told me about some of the things she’d seen, just like I’d vent to her about Dad’s drinking, but talking about this, the abuse, felt worse. It felt wrong.

We walked into a clothing store that specialized in mass-market dupes of higher end brands. Neon-colored shirts and skinny jeans lined the shelves. Tacky accessories dangled from the rotating display at the center of the store.

“I don’t want to talk about this,” I said, picking up a pair of sunglasses and placing them over my eyes. For a few seconds, I admired my mysterious reflection, then slid the sunglasses into my bag. I didn’t even look around to see if anyone else was watching.

Nadia, never wanting me to feel alone, did the same. She picked up a sequined coin purse and slid it into her own backpack. “I’m not trying to upset you,” she said.

“I’m not upset.”

We didn’t even make it to the dressing rooms before an attendant stopped us.

“Can we take a look in your bags?” the older woman asked.

Nadia and I responded with attitude, which prompted her to call mall security. In all the times we’d dash and go, we’d never been caught. Then again, I’d never been so distracted. I’d always been aware of my surroundings, trying not to get caught. Nadia’s accusation made me reckless.

Security arrived, and things escalated from there. That was the first time Nadia and I got arrested. The first mark on my record. And as I recall the young female cop with dark hair who put handcuffs on me, I realize Detective Fields was there that day, witnessing my first real mistake.

In the mirror, my adult reflection stares back at me, my eyes beginning to well with tears.

“Are you ready?” Connor asks, standing beside our bed. I’d been so lost in thought, his voice startles me.

When I respond to him, it’s with a shaky, “Almost.”

The prayer circle at the school is set to start within an hour. He walks over to my vanity, bending down to kiss me on the cheek. “Everything will be okay,” he says. “They’re going to find her.”

He sees the tears in my eyes and assumes they’re there because of Evie. That’s part of the reason, sure, but not the whole truth. It never is.

TWENTY-ONE

Nothing brings a community together like tragedy.

The school parking lot is so full that Connor and I have to park on the side of the road, behind a long row of cars that have arrived before us. We walk uphill to the school, students and parents on either side of us. By the time we reach the parking lot, there’s already a mass of people outside the building.

If only Evie could see this. Would she ever imagine this many people would come together for her? She’s used to these same people cheering for her from the gymnasium stands, but away from the court, she’s plagued with waning confidence and low self-esteem. I was the same way at her age, believing if it wasn’t for my gift, I’d be forgotten.

“Can you believe this crowd?” Joanna says when she approaches us, Connor standing between us.

“If this many people are aware of her disappearance,” he says, “someone must come forward with some information.”

“The detective said they didn’t have any leads when I talked to her,” I say.

“What detective?” Joanna asks.

“A woman came by my house this morning asking more questions,” I say. “Hasn’t she talked to you?”

“I haven’t spoken to any cops since Saturday,” Joanna says, looking ahead.

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