Page 4 of The Missing Half

“Well.” She hesitates. “Our sisters’ cases are connected.”

You wouldn’t have to read even a single article about the disappearances to know that. It’s common knowledge—at least around these parts—and it strikes me suddenly how odd it is that we’ve never met. The Connors have held a lot of real estate in my mind over the years, but no one in either family—hers or ours—has ever gotten in touch with anyone in the other.

And because our sisters went missing from different towns, their cases were handled by separate jurisdictions. I’ve spoken with the detective on her sister’s case, and I’m sure she’s spoken with the one on mine, but we’ve never overlapped. Until now.

“And?” I say.

“No one knows why. After all this time. Why the two of them?”

What does she expect me to say? Does she not think the police explored that question? Or that every journalist and podcast host hasn’t gone down that road a dozen times? I don’t know the answer because no one does. And if she thinks the two of us are going to figure out in an hour what no one has in almost a decade, she’s delusional.

“I know it sounds…farfetched,” she says. “But talking to you is the only thing I haven’t done. If there’s any similarity between their lives—”

“The police looked into all of that.”

“I know. I know. But no one knows them like us. The police missed something, and I think we have a shot at figuring it out.”

“They’re not coming back,” I say slowly. “Kasey and Jules are dead.”

I’m nervous for a second that Jenna is still holding on to the hope that I gave up long ago—the hope that because the bodies of our sisters were never found, they could still be out there, alive. But she just says, “I know.”

“Then why are you doing this? What’s the point?”

“It’s…complicated.”

There’s something in her eyes, something she’s not telling me, but according to my phone, I now have two minutes to get to the bus stop. “Right. Well, I’m sorry. But I have to go.”

“Nic, please. Just give me an hour. I promise I’ll leave you alone after that.”

“Look,” I say. “I’ve spent seven years trying not to think about everything I lost when Kasey disappeared. Seven years getting over the fact that my sister is never coming back.” Although the truth is I haven’t been getting over anything. I’ve been methodically numbing myself to it. And even so, any semblance of peace I have feels as if it’s balancing on the edge of a knife. One breath and it would all tip over. “I’m not about to undo that for the sake of some stranger.”

I turn again to leave, but Jenna grabs my forearm. “Wait! Wait. I get it. I do. But there’s something I haven’t told you. The reason I’m doing this—the real reason. I found something the police didn’t have during their original investigation.”

Her words hit me in the knees. And for the briefest moment, a millisecond in time that makes me hate myself, I don’t want to ask what she found because I’m too scared to know.

“Jules’s old diary,” Jenna blurts out before I can say anything at all. “She, um, wrote something about that summer that the police didn’t know. And if our sisters’ cases are connected like we think they are, information about hers is information about Kasey’s too.”

I stare at her in silence, but inside I’m screaming. Screaming for her to go away, for my body to run, for something—anything—to get rid of this new ache in my chest. When I open my mouth though, all I can say is, “What did she write?”

“First, talk to me about Kasey’s disappearance.”

“Are you serious?” I say. “You’re not gonna tell me?”

“I’ll tell you, I promise. But only after you tell me about your sister’s case.”

“That’s insane. I have a right to know.”

“Look,” Jenna says, “you just made it very clear that you don’t want to talk about your sister or her disappearance. So if I tell you what I found out, how do I know you’re not just gonna walk away? Think of it as collateral. I’ll talk when you do.”

I glance at my phone. My bus will be arriving any moment now. “Do you have a car?” I say.

“A—what?”

“A car, Jenna. Do you have a car?”

“I have a truck,” she says.

“Good. I’m gonna need a ride.”

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