Page 54 of Begin Again
The room remains silent and still. Despite my desperate pleas for answers and help—not just tonight but this entire time—they go unanswered, leaving me feeling helpless and hopeless. A heaviness settles in my chest as a sob builds. The warmth in my eyes begins to blur my vision. Thickness coats my throat.
My phone buzzes against the vanity.
Who the fuck?It can’t be Elena. She’s still in Florida, it’s too late for her to be awake, and I already talked to her earlier. She will be arriving in Haven with her grandfather in two days, and I’m no closer to finding answers about her dad today than last week. The thought of my impending conversation with her makes me sick to my stomach.
The call ends but picks back up immediately.
Climbing out of the tub, I pull my robe over my shoulders and pick up the phone.
Beau Turner.
“This better be important, Beau.”
“Nina…went back…I…trail.” His voice cuts out every few words and it makes my heart race. Is he still out on the trail? It’s well past ten o’clock, he shouldn’t be out there. He was supposed to be right behind me when I left earlier.
“Beau, you’re cutting out. What’s wrong?”
The call goes dead and when I try to call him back, it only rings until it reaches his voicemail. I curse under my breath.How am I supposed to make out what he was saying or know where to find him? My phone vibrates again, but this time it’s a text message.
My heart drops.
They found something? What does he mean they found something? I thought the search was off.
Shedding my robe, I run to the closet to pull on jeans and Nick’s sweater from the Jeep. We got the car back this morning after the State police finished running tests. They said they would have the results by the end of the week, but it was only slightly comforting to know they hadn’t found any initial traces of blood or a struggle inside the vehicle. Straightening out my bun, I pull on boots as another text comes through.
That single word stops me in my tracks.
The lake.
They found something…in the lake?
The parking lot where the search camp had been set up is clear, minus a few remaining vehicles. Two have searchlights on, lighting up the dark lot, and I can see four figures huddled over the hood of another.
Beau glances over his shoulder when I call his name, motioning for me to join them.
I recognize Sheriff Wilson, Sergeant Warren, and Deputy Max Johnson, one of Beau’s deputies, as the other men with him, and they all take turns looking my way. Their expressions are unreadable, unlike Beau’s—or maybe I’ve gotten better at reading him.
A paper map is spread out over the hood of the police truck with a large red X drawn near the lake, but not the one I thought Beau was talking about.
“Nayda?” I ask. Lake Nayda is a smaller lake at least half a mile east of the trailhead, past the dead end of the highway.
“Recognize these?” Beau doesn’t waste time, pointing to the evidence bags on the hood. Each one contains a separate item: a phone, a shoe, and a torn piece of fabric. Even from this distance and the shadows cast by the lights, I recognize the shoe as one-half of the missing pair from our closet. And if I tapped on the screen—if the phone works—I’m sure there will be a photo of me and Elena staring back.
I nod.
“You the know the code for the phone?”
“It works?”
Beau lifts the phone and taps the screen through the translucent bag. Sure enough, it lights up with the photo of Elena and me from last June, bright smiles on our faces. However, a large crack down the center stems from an impact point near the top right corner.
“I thought you said it was in the lake.”
“Beau and I found it a couple hundred yards south of Nayda,” Max says, motioning down the road.
“It was the only place I hadn’t personally looked,” Beau adds. “The only placewedidn’t look. I didn’t realize it until Max and I were about to pull out and I just had this feeling…We went to do one final sweep. It reflected off our flashlight near the first bend.”
“1-0-3-0,” I say, still staring at the screen that has since darkened.
