The Girl from Widow Hills - Megan Miranda Page 0,31

We’re going live to Tiffany Lu, who’s joining us from the volunteer headquarters in Widow Hills, Kentucky. Tiffany, can you tell us what it’s like there right now?

TIFFANY LU: Good morning, Alana. The search for six-yearold Arden Maynor is now entering the third day in Widow Hills, Kentucky. What had first been driven by a majority-volunteer outpouring of resources and support has now turned into a massive undertaking on a national level.

At the most recent press conference last night, Captain Morgan Howard was pressed for his thoughts on the status of the search. He said that, quote, “We will find her. That’s what we’re here to do, and we’re going to do it.”

He was then pressed on what the chances were of finding her alive. Captain Howard’s answer was evasive yet firm. He responded, quote, “A child is not a statistic.”

Alana, we’ve been interviewing various residents in the area over the last few days who have told us that locals themselves have organized searches through the easier terrain. But there’s now an experienced rescue operation combing the treacherous terrain in the valley. Helicopters are scanning the area from above with infrared, looking for heat signatures that could match a child’s. And there are teams preparing to explore the system of drainage tunnels wherever they are accessible.

It’s a race against time, and they’re using every hour and every person at their disposal. It may be three days since there’s been any clue or hint to her whereabouts, but the people surrounding the search are undeterred.

For all of us at the volunteer headquarters, it’s becoming easier to believe Captain Howard’s promise. The general feeling on the ground is that they will not stop until the child is found.

ALANA COX: Thank you, Tiffany. And thank you to everyone on the scene for all you’re doing to find her. For the rest of us, we can only watch—and hope.

CHAPTER 9

Saturday, 7:30 a.m.

ELYSE TYPICALLY BRIGHTENED A room or a mood. But there was no helping the situation of my house. It was the crime tape we could see to the left when we pulled up my drive. The voices carrying across the yard as she helped me up the steps, one leg awkwardly following behind, stiff from the stitches. And it was something else when we stepped inside, a scent I couldn’t place—not quite sweat but something that made me imagine a person. A whiff of product. A reminder that a detective had been in here with me, looking around.

I wondered if anyone else had been in while I was away. If Rick had let them in using the key I’d given him. There were probably guidelines against that, but these were all people who knew one another, with a shared history that meant more than protocol. Rick had even introduced the detective as Nina.

The lights had all been left on from the night before, but the house suddenly felt like a stranger. A creak in the hall where I didn’t remember one. An empty nail hole in the wall over the kitchen table. A tear in the window screen over the sink.

Elyse stood beside me, unfolding the directions that came with the prescription. “You’re supposed to take this one with food.” She placed the page faceup on the table. “Sit tight, I’ll get some breakfast going.”

I picked up the paper, reading over the details as Elyse took a carton of eggs from the fridge. I read the description of the medicine to myself, then bit back a laugh.

“You okay over there?”

A sleeping aid. The prescription was for a pain reliever that was also used, at times, as a sleeping aid. “Just realizing how much easier it is to get a prescription for something on the surface. The cut wasn’t even that bad, really.” I shook the amber bottle, tipped a pill into my hand, took it with a sip of water from the sink.

“I think it’s also about how you got it, Liv.”

I plopped down in the chair at the kitchen table, resting my leg on the spare one to keep it straight and elevated, per Dr. Britton’s written suggestions. Elyse cracked an egg over a bowl, then reached for another.

“What’s the worst thing you’ve seen?” I asked.

She froze, the yolk running. “In this hospital?” she asked, staring at the bowl. She shook her head. “I don’t work in the ER, so I don’t see the worst of it, you know? Some of the other nurses, they talk, though. They see a lot more