Page 12 of Entangled

His beard rasps as he drags his fingers through it. “I want to believe it so badly, but the evidence is telling us otherwise. The police changed it to a murder investigation the day after her disappearance. It’s not an abduction, Willow. I’m sorry.”

I don’t like that he’s apologizing to me. His daughter is missing because I left the party early. It’s my fault he looks like a shell of his former self.

I leave him on the couch and walk into his kitchen, where I reach for the garbage bags in the cupboard beneath the sink. Grabbing the roll, I tear one off and shake it out.

Grayson is where I left him, staring blankly out the window when I return. His eyes skate over to me as I clear his coffee table. “What are you doing?”

“You can’t live like this.”

“I’ll tidy it up later.”

I don’t stop cleaning. Not until his coffee table is empty of pizza boxes and beer cans. I even throw out the entire ashtray. The room stinks, so I open a window to let in some fresh air. It smells of drizzling rain and trees. Breathing it in, I slowly turn. Grayson rolls his head on the back of the couch and stares at me for a long moment. “It’s hard to look at you.”

“Why?”

A car drives past outside. I watch it park in a driveway further down the street.

“You and my daughter were inseparable. From the moment you became friends, you were always together.”

“Not recently,” I point out, my throat clogged with emotion.

Grayson lifts his shoulders and lets them fall. “That’s teenage love for you. I remember how intense it got at times.”

“I wouldn’t know,” I reply, scanning the room. It’s decorated in gray and white with yellow accents. It’s modern but also homely.

Grayson doesn’t reply. He simply sighs and stares at the ceiling as if it holds the answers he needs to locate his daughter.

“Do you want me to get you anything from the shop, Grayson? Maybe some milk?”

“How can time move so slowly?”

“Because you’re waiting,” I reply, and he looks at me again. “Time always drags when you want something to happen.”

His throat jumps, but he stays silent, and I take that as my cue to leave. Tying up the garbage bag, I exit the room. The walls in the hallway are lined with photographs of Chloe at various stages in her life: ballet competitions, her first visit from the tooth fairy, the time we dressed up as mermaids. Her eyes follow me as I walk past. I shake off the shiver that crawls down my spine.

CHAPTER5

WILLOW

DECEMBER 5TH, 2015

I raisemy hand to knock on Grayson’s door but lower it again, chewing on my lip. I don’t want to bother him, but I haven’t seen him in weeks. He’s still off work, hiding away in his house. I want to feel close to Chloe again. I just need to be in her home for an hour. Sit at her table and pretend for five seconds that she’s coming back.

That everything is normal.

Steadying my nerves, I knock.

The door opens with a creak, revealing the ghost of a man who’s lost everything. I thought that maybe he would have gone back to work by now, or at least attempted a walk outside in the sun, but he has completely retreated into himself. My eyes slide down his creased, gray T-shirt, black joggers that hang low on his hips, and bare feet. Hugging the paper bag filled with groceries to my chest, I clear my throat. “Can I come in?”

“Why are you here, Willow?” he asks, sounding tired and defeated.

“You never leave the house.” I hesitate, then add, “I brought groceries.”

The door opens the rest of the way, and Grayson walks ahead, disappearing down the hallway. I scan my eyes across the empty street before entering the house and closing the door. The blinds are drawn; it’s dark. “Grayson?”

I find him sitting at the kitchen table, staring at nothing. He looks like he hasn’t slept in weeks.

“I thought I could cook us something to eat.” I place the bag on the counter and unpack it, softly placing the items down. I don’t want to startle him or make him feel uncomfortable in his own home. The silence that follows is only disturbed by the ruffling of the paper bag.

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