Page 4 of The Followers

Sam Howard. Her sister’s ex-boyfriend. The man who had somehow evaded the police and FBI for nine long years.

But before Liv could call the police and report what she’d seen, just a few hours later, the picture was gone. Vanished from Molly’s Instagram feed like it had never existed. After berating herself for not getting a screenshot, Liv called the cops, but the detective she spoke with wasn’t impressed. You don’t have any evidence, sweetie. Especially now that the picture’s gone.

Liv didn’t need the picture; she knew it was him. Even though she’d only met him once, even though she had no pictures of him, it didn’t matter. When she closed her eyes, she could still see his face as it had looked that night, shadowed by Gran’s porch light.

She’d hung up with the detective, and that night, she’d applied for a new temp job in Durango, Colorado, where Molly lived. If the detective wanted evidence, she would get it.

Since arriving in Durango two months ago, Liv had monitored Molly’s social media platforms for any clues to her location. Yesterday, Molly posted about taking a walk by the river (Loving the beautiful Animas in downtown Durango! #AnimasRiverTrail #ColoradoLiving) and Liv rushed over there. She scoured the area, but never found her. Today, she’d watched Molly’s live Pap smear, but by the time Liv figured out the address for the doctor’s office and drove there, the parking lot was empty.

Then, about an hour after the live ended, Molly posted a selfie with her daughter at this park (Playtime with my girlie! #DurangoCityPark #ColoradoGirls #AnInvincibleSummer). Liv had dropped everything and jumped in her car, heart pounding with anticipation, palms slick on the steering wheel.

This time, she found her.

She’d easily recognized Molly in her signature pink sunglasses along with a white tank top, understated gold jewelry, and perfectly distressed denim cut-offs. The outfit was straight out of Molly’s recent IG post about Chic + Casual Summer Wear for Every Body. Molly’s daughter, who featured prominently in her social media, wore a princess dress, ragged along the hem, and a plastic crown that kept slipping into her face. Liv didn’t care much about the girl; she was too blond and freckled to be Liv’s dark-haired, dark-eyed niece. And too young.

Gabriela would be nearly ten years old now, missing since the night Kristina was murdered in her apartment. Missing so long the part of Liv’s heart that held her memory had healed over, scarred down. But the thought of finding her niece had turned the scar into an open wound.

A memory bloomed in Liv’s mind—a black-eyed, rosy-cheeked baby, reaching out with starfish hands. She swallowed past the yearning and leaned forward, studying Molly. So wholesome, so carefree, and happy. Shouldn’t she be withering under the burden of her husband’s secret?

Unless she didn’t know.

Of course she doesn’t know, Liv thought as she uncrossed and re-crossed her legs on the metal bench. No woman (or at least, not a woman like this, bending to kiss her daughter’s peach-curve of a cheek) would knowingly marry a murderer. A man who had killed his ex-girlfriend, kidnapped their daughter, and changed his identity.

Liv wished she was a better, braver version of herself. The kind who could walk over and strike up a conversation, extract vital information in the guise of casual chit-chat. But she’d always been terrible at small talk, even with people she knew well. And now? With all these memories flooding her mind? She worried that she wouldn’t be able to speak at all.

Still, she needed to find some way to make contact with Molly Sullivan, and soon. Molly had just told her little girl they needed to leave in five minutes. When her daughter jumped off the swing and scampered across the playground after a butterfly, Liv saw her chance. She scooted to the edge of the bench and stood, the backs of her thighs damp with sweat.

The little girl ran closer, plastic crown hanging from her wild curls, eyes focused on the butterfly. Liv took a half-step forward as the child darted in front of her, and the girl collided with her legs. Liv’s coffee cup went flying. Small, chubby arms gripped her thighs. She looked down to see blue eyes blinking up at her.

“I’m so sorry!” Molly said, rushing over. “Honey, you need to say excuse me.”

“’Scuse me,” the little girl said, her voice tiny and tinkling.

“That’s okay,” Liv managed. She hadn’t planned what to do at this point. “I wasn’t watching where I was going, either.”

“Oh no!” Molly said, noticing Liv’s cup on the ground. “She made you drop your coffee. Let me pay you back.” She dug into the bag slung across her shoulder and pulled out a few dollar bills.

Liv waved the money away, ducking to pick up the cup. “No worries, it’s almost gone.”

“I still feel bad,” Molly said. “We’re new in town, and here we go, ramming into nice people at the park.”

“You’re new here?” Liv asked, straightening.

She already knew this, as did millions of Molly’s closest friends. Molly’s move to Durango, after her recent marriage, had been all over her social media. Ten Tips for a Blissful Move, Easing the Transition for Children, Starting a Blended Family. But in a strange break from her usual oversharing, Molly didn’t speak much about her new husband. She’d shared just that one picture, and she never used his name, referring to him only as Mister Sullivan.

She’d never mentioned if he had a ten-year-old daughter.

“We moved here a couple weeks ago,” Molly said. “My boyfriend—I mean, my husband—lives here.”

Molly smiled a secret sort of smile, a newlywed smile, like she was carrying around a precious gift the rest of the world hadn’t yet discovered. It would have been heartwarming if Liv didn’t suspect who Molly’s husband was—and what he had done.

“I’m new here, too,” Liv heard herself saying. She was surprised at how normal she sounded.

Molly’s eyes lit up. “Oh, no way! So far everyone I’ve met is either a tourist or their family’s been here for generations. I feel like such an outsider. Where are you from?”

“Fresno.” Not true, but it was her last place of residence in the string of temporary homes she’d had over the past several years.

Molly’s smile grew. The deep dimple on one side gave her face a lopsided, endearing quality. “Really? One of my college roommates was from Fresno. Suzie Ling?”

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