“Daniel, wait,” I said.

“I need to go,” he said.

I crossed the yard after him but didn’t know what to say once I had his attention. I looked to Tyler for help, but he was loading up his truck, carrying supplies and using a tarp to protect it all.

“What did you tell Laura?” I asked.

Daniel opened the car door. “That I was here. That we were working late.”

“See you at the search,” Tyler called, hopping in the truck.

I made it inside before throwing up, the kitchen sink coated with water and bile and fine white powder.

I cleaned the kitchen, took a scalding shower, and mopped the floors.

When the dryer finished, I folded Tyler’s clothes and stuffed them in the bottom drawer of my empty dresser, out of sight.

* * *

WE MET IN THE church basement. Everyone was there, nearly all of Cooley Ridge taking off from work, cramped together in the rec room, overflowing into the kitchen, crowding down the steps.

We rally in a crisis. We rise to the tragedy. Suffer a death and we will feed you for a year. Disappear and we will scour the earth until you are found.

Bricks was set up in front, standing on a chair. His hairline was starting to recede, which you could see because he kept his hair buzzed almost to the scalp.

I had to stand on my toes, pushing through the crowd, to see what he was gesturing toward. What was he talking about? I started picking up snippets of conversation, losing Bricks’s voice. Disappeared. Corinne Prescott. Wandered off. Taken. Monsters.

“. . . in grids.” There was a hand on my shoulder. I needed to focus. Laura. I looked at her over my shoulder, and she raised an eyebrow. Okay? she mouthed.

I nodded. Bricks was pointing to a map of Cooley Ridge, the woods beyond, the river snaking through.

“What do they think?” Laura whispered. “That she got lost out there?”

I broke into a light sweat. I couldn’t see Daniel, but he must’ve been nearby if Laura was here. I couldn’t find Tyler, either. Bricks was holding up the clipboard we’d signed in on. “We’ve assigned you to a grid, each with a leader.” He held up a purple rectangle. “When I call your name, follow Officer Fraize here.”

He started breaking us into teams, and Laura leaned in. “Y’all are working too hard on that house. You really need to take it easier. Both of you.”

“I know,” I said, keeping my eyes on Bricks.

“Besides,” she said, “he’s supposed to be painting the nursery. Honestly. I could give birth any moment now.”

I whipped my head around.

“Don’t worry, I’m not.”

“Should you even be here?” I asked.

“Nic Farrell—”

I pushed through the crowd, following Officer Fraize, not knowing anyone else in my group other than by family association. There were eight of us on the team.

“The ground will be wet,” he said. “So watch your footing. And always keep a visual on the person to your side. Move as one, at the same rate. And make sure you’re all accounted for on your way out. We don’t have enough radios, so . . .” He eyed the group, handed the radio to an older man whom I recognized as the father of someone I went to school with. “Radio back if you find anything.”

“Hey,” I said, and Officer Fraize half looked at me, heading toward the next group. If he recognized me, he didn’t let on. “Did you contact her father? Her friends from college?”

“Yeah, we’re on it. We know how to run an investigation. Or do you have something to add? Didn’t realize you’d moved back, Nic.”

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. “I didn’t. I’m just in town for a little while.”

He paused, his mind grasping for something, sorting through the pieces. “You staying at your dad’s old place?”

“Yes.”

“Happen to see anything in the woods night before last? Hear anything unusual? Anything like that?”

I shook my head. No sir, no sir, no sir.

He focused on me for a moment too long. “Off you go, then,” he said. He scanned the crowd before moving on to the next group.

I knew exactly who he was looking for.

* * *

WE STARTED NEAR THE back of Annaleise’s house, heading in the direction of the river. The search ended up being tedious work, exacerbated by an older lady who couldn’t keep up. We moved at a snail’s pace, and then she’d stop to pick up anything that looked out of place. A rock that had been displaced, a pile of sticks, a marker on a tree. The man in charge of our group by decree of holding the radio kept reminding her, “We’re looking for her. We’re not investigating a crime scene.”

We weren’t close enough to talk to one another in quiet conversation; we were supposed to be listening, anyway. For calls for help or something. Every once in a while, the girl on the edge would call, “Annaleise? Annaleise Carter?” Because there might be more than one Annaleise lost in these woods.

As we approached the river, we ran into another team. “We went too far,” I said.

Our leader, Brad, examined the map. “Nah, we’ve got to the edge of the river. They’re out of their zone. Hey! You’re out of zone!”

“What?” a man yelled back.

“I said you’re in the wrong place!”

They yelled across the expanse, then the two leaders walked toward each other, their maps out, arguing. I sat on a tree stump, waiting it out. This was a waste. We had no idea if the teams were covering the right sections. Not everyone was familiar with the woods. Not everyone knew the right landmarks.

“I think I found something!” The old lady was crouched over a pile of leaves about ten feet from the river. The girl beside me rolled her eyes. The old lady picked up something that glinted in the sunlight, holding it over her head, squinting. “What is it?” she asked.

I rose, slowly making my way toward them.

“A buckle,” someone said. “For a fairy. It’s tiny.”

“Oh,” she said. “Like from a bracelet, maybe?” She turned it over in her hands. It had two letters floating inside a circle, the edges coated in mud. “The initials are MK, so it can’t be hers.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” I said. “Are we really pulling every piece of trash from the forest? This is ridiculous.”

“Should you be touching that?” said a teen who had probably seen one too many cop shows.