Long after the sparkler’s fizzled out, Mina’s ash-smeared hands hold mine between her palms.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” she whispers.

I hook my thumb around hers, and our matching rings click against each other, the unspoken promise of forever…someday.

55

NOW (JUNE)

When I get home, I page through Mina’s notes, trying to find any mention of Jackie’s possible pregnancy. But either she hadn’t had the time to write it down or she hadn’t finished figuring it out, because there’s nothing in the time line or her notes to suggest she even suspected it.

I close my laptop after I’ve searched all the files. I’m almost positive an unplanned pregnancy is the reason Jackie disappeared. I wish it were July, so Margaret Chase was back from vacation. I don’t have much hope that she’ll confirm my suspicions—­there are rules about sharing that kind of stuff—but maybe if I go into the clinic and talk to her, I’d be able to tell from her reaction. Just to be sure.

“Sophie?” My mom taps on my door before opening it.

I jerk in surprise, and the notebook in my lap falls to the floor. “Yeah?”

“Just checking on you. I made dinner, if you want some.”

“Thanks, but I already ate.”

“With Trev?” she asks.

“No, I went to Angry Burger with Rachel.”

“Your father said Trev was here earlier.”

“He dropped me off after we were done hanging out,” I say, and her lips pinch together.

“I see. Well, then, good night.”

“Night.”

As the door closes behind her, I open the notebook in my lap again. The plastic bag containing the warning notes is pressed between the pages.

I’m scraping up on the edges of something…something that will make all this clear. It buzzes underneath my skin, makes me want to pace, to keep moving, forward, upward, no matter what.

Is this how she felt? This tantalizing reach for answers that had her addicted and reckless?

I can almost understand it. It’s just another kind of high.

I press my hand over the notes, safely enclosed in the plastic. What would Detective James do if I brought them to him now? Would he think I wrote them myself? Would he laugh in my face?

Tomorrow, I have to ask Trev what we should do. After we talk to Amy Dennings. Maybe it’ll be enough, the threats coupled with Mina’s notes about the case. Detective James would have to listen to Trev. He’ll have to pay attention to new evidence, even if it messes with his drug deal theory. And he’d worked Jackie’s case—he might be able to draw connections that none of us could see.

I close the notebook, tucking it carefully in my desk drawer before shutting off my light.

I sleep, but all I dream about is chasing after Mina, her laughing, and me never quite catching up.

The next day, I drive to the soccer field at quarter to six and sit on the hood of my car, waiting for Trev. He shows up five minutes later, and we walk across the wide green lawn, the summer sun beating down on our shoulders. The girls are still out on the field, with some parents watching on the sidelines as Coach paces, shouting encouragement or correction.

“Do you know what she looks like?” Trev asks. “She has dark hair, I think.”

I shade my eyes against the sun, looking over the sea of heads to pick out the brunettes. We hang to the side until practice finishes and the girls disperse. A girl with a pixie cut jogs up close to us to grab her bag, and I smile at her and ask, “Hey, I’m looking for Amy. Is she here?”

“Yeah, she’s over there with Casey.” The girl points to two girls huddled together. The dark-haired girl is laughing, and the other, a short redhead, squirts water at her from her bottle while Amy shrieks and dodges back.

“Thanks.”

“Hey, you’re Coach Bill’s daughter, aren’t you?” the girl asks. “You used to play.”

“I used to,” I say.

“Your dad’s cool. Way easier than Coach Rob.”

I can’t help but smile. “I’ll tell him you said that,” I say to her. “Thanks again.”

By the time Trev and I make it across the lawn, the redhead has walked off, leaving Amy by herself, stuffing her gear into her bag.

“Amy?” I call.

She turns, her long brown ponytail swinging over her shoulder. I can see the resemblance to Jackie: the upturned nose, the sweet expression in her blue eyes. “Yeah?”

“I’m Sophie,” I say. “This is Trev. Can we talk to you for a second?”

“What’s this about?” She casts a sideways look at Trev that lasts a little too long. “Do I know you?” she asks him.

“I was friends with your sister,” Trev says. “I think we met once or twice when you were little.”

“Oh.” She crosses her arms, looking us up and down. “Is this about Jackie? Because I don’t talk about her. Especially with strangers.”

“You talked to my sister about her,” Trev says. “Mina Bishop?”

Her eyes widen. “You’re Mina’s brother?”

He nods.

“Look, I’m sorry about what happened to Mina,” she says.

“Thank you,” Trev replies, and there’s a mechanical feel to it. I wonder, suddenly, how many times he’s heard this from people. Apologies and awkward silences must be his reality now. I wonder if he’s as desperate to leave this town as I am, even as I know he’ll never desert his mom. Not now.

“But whatever this is about…” She looks over her shoulder. “My mom’s right over there. I’ve really got to go.”

“Mina did an interview with you, didn’t she?” I ask. “About your sister’s disappearance? She was doing a story about it.”

“No,” Amy says, but she’s not a good liar. Her cheeks burn red even before the lie’s off her lips.

“Amy, I have Mina’s notes,” I say. “She might not have recorded all of your interview, but I have the first minute of it. I know you two talked.”

Amy’s chin juts out, a mulish expression settling over her face. “We didn’t. I realized it was a mistake, so I left after I asked her to turn off the recorder.” She looks over her shoulder again, toward the cars that are pulling into the parking lot as her teammates pack up their gear and join their parents. “I have to go,” she says.

“We’re sorry for bothering you,” Trev says, and he smiles gently at her, that comforting, safe smile of his—and, like almost every other girl in the world, she responds to it.

“It’s okay,” she says. “But I have to go.”

“I know,” Trev says. “I just need to ask you one more thing, then I won’t bother you anymore. Did you tell anyone that Mina was doing interviews about Jackie?”

“No,” Amy says. “I didn’t tell anyone. Why does it even matter? It was just a stupid newspaper story.”

“I’m just trying to figure some stuff out,” Trev says.

“Well, I can’t help you with it.” Amy slings her bag back over her shoulder. “Bye.” She takes long, loping strides away from us.

She’s hiding something.

“Give me a minute,” I tell Trev. Then I go after her. “Amy!” I call. “Wait a second.”

“Seriously, this is, like, harassment,” she says, spinning around. “What do you want?”

“Was Jackie pregnant?”

I’m standing right in front of her, but I could be half a mile away and see the truth. She sucks in a breath, sharp and fast, her chest heaving with it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says, once she manages to slow her breathing a bit.

“Bullshit,” I say. “She was pregnant, wasn’t she? And you knew.”

Amy looks over her shoulder like she’s scared the group of girls thirty feet away will hear us. Then she grabs my arm, squeezing tight enough to bruise. “Shut up.”

“Did you know all this time?” I ask, shaking off her grip. “Did you withhold it from the police? Why would you do that?”

Amy’s cheeks get red again. The color spreads down her neck, up her ears. “Seriously, shut up. Do you want someone to hear you?”

But I’m ruthless. I have to be.

“How did you find out she was pregnant? Did Jackie tell you?”

“I’m gonna start screaming in a second,” Amy threatens. “My mom’s right over there waiting for me.” She points at the group of grown-ups who are talking with Coach and some of the girls by the parking lot.

“No, you won’t,” I say. “If your mom comes over, she’ll hear what I’m saying, and I’m pretty sure you don’t want that. Because I’m pretty sure she has no idea about this, does she? Answer my question: how did you know your sister was pregnant?”

“God, I thought Mina was bad,” Amy spits out. She comes closer to me and lowers her voice. “What is with you people? Can’t you just leave us alone? Do you think I feel good about this? I was eleven when Jackie disappeared. I barely knew what a pregnancy test was, or what it looked like. I didn’t think it was important when I found it. By the time I realized what it meant, Jackie’d been missing for two years. My parents—they don’t need to wonder about a grandkid, okay? They already have enough unanswered questions.”

“Did you tell Mina Jackie was pregnant?”

“Why is that even…” Amy stops. Her mouth hardens; when she squares her shoulders, I see determination in her. “Look, Mina was nice, okay? I refused to talk to her for a long time, I was a total bitch to her, and she was still nice to me. She wore me down.” Amy digs the toe of her cleat into the grass, avoiding my eyes. “She promised she wouldn’t tell anyone. That it was off the record.”

“Mina kept your secret. She was good at that.”

“Are you going to keep it?” she asks, the tremble in her voice almost under control.

“No,” I say, because I won’t lie to her.

She glares at me. “Why not?” she demands.