suddenly show up.
Olivia hugged him. “Where’ve you been?”
“Hiding in the canoe. I was going to spook you guys but you were taking forever.”
“You idiot!” She thrust him away from her. “We’ve been looking all over for you. We thought you were lost. Mrs. Whitman was going to call the sheriff.”
“Why? I’ve been here the whole time.”
“Oh, thank goodness.” Mrs. Whitman came rushing down the steps. She hugged Lucas. “We were so worried.”
Lucas grimaced, his cheeks reddening as he realized the joke he’d tried to play on them didn’t go over well.
Mr. Whitman and Blaze returned an hour later, panicked. When they found everyone safe inside the cabin, and after Lucas explained he thought the trail was boring and made his own, cutting the distance in half so that he arrived before everyone else, Mr. Whitman knocked back a finger of scotch and grounded Lucas for twenty-four hours. The following morning, he took Lucas back on the trail and made him find his way home the right way, insisting he pay attention to the trail markers.
For the rest of their summer visit, Olivia was grateful Lucas didn’t pull any more pranks, even though she knew he wanted to. But whenever he started to get that mischievous, rebellious look in his eye, Olivia glared at him. She didn’t like him ruining their adventures. If the Whitmans couldn’t trust them to be on their best behavior, Charlotte had told her, they wouldn’t invite them back next summer. Olivia needed these summers at the lake. It was the only time she genuinely enjoyed herself. She felt like she was part of something. A real family.
CHAPTER 6
Olivia strips off her sheets that smell of Blaze and her insecurities, memories of summers at the lake lingering like his scent. But it’s thoughts of Lucas that have her shaking the pillow so hard from its case that she almost knocks over her bedside lamp. Her brother was never reliable. Deep down she knows she can’t count on him, but her fingers are crossed he’ll step up and help with Josh when she calls him. He’s Lily’s son. That should motivate him.
A toilet flushes in the bathroom. Olivia looks toward the door and the unfamiliar sound where Josh is getting ready for bed. He’s the first guest to use the spare room since the remodel. He reminds her of a lost puppy, all big feet, floppy hair, and baggy sweats. She found a pair of Blaze’s in the dryer when she noticed Josh didn’t have a change of clothes. He was going to sleep in his jeans.
If he was planning to run away, wouldn’t he have packed smarter? He doesn’t even have a phone. Can Lily afford one, or is she strict? Maybe she never gave him one. Or he could have lost it when he lost his mother.
Olivia needs to find her. Or, she thinks, her limbs feeling shaky, find out what happened to her.
Looking back at the empty bed she feels a little empty herself, like something, or someone, is missing. And she’s not sure if the feeling stems solely from knowing Blaze won’t be staying with her tonight, or if it arises from Lily. Her whereabouts are a mystery.
Making her way to the laundry room, she pauses outside Josh’s room. The door is ajar, the bedside lamp on, dousing the room in soft light. Showered and dressed in her old Nine Inch Nails concert shirt and Blaze’s gray sweats, Josh flips through the coffee-table book he’s been attached to since he stepped into her house. He skims through the pages like he’s glossing over the words and photos. Is he looking for something? What if he can’t read? Can he even write? Her questions sound ridiculous about a thirteen-year-old, but if he mixes words and has trouble with numbers, he reasonably could have other issues, too.
Olivia eases away from the door so she doesn’t burst in and bombard him with questions. She upset him earlier, and frankly, she’s a little freaked he’ll flip out again.
She starts a load of laundry and retreats to her office, where three life-size prints of her superheroes lord over her workstations: Ruby, Titian, and Dahlia, fully suited in their red-and-silver superhero outfits. Two sisters and a brother, each capable of wielding energy in their own way. They’re close like she and her siblings used to be. And very protective of each other, in a way the Carson kids never were.
They should have been.
The thought fills her with remorse. Instead of