it back upright, but my hands were shaking. The glass went over the edge of my tray—the first dish I’d broken in ages—and once it fell, I couldn’t get the tray balanced. The newscaster was moving his lips and the graphic still said Nebraska Body May Be Hostage.
I tried to level the tray with my other hand, but the whole thing went sideways, and I dumped four Pepsis and a Sierra Mist on the floor after the iced tea.
I couldn’t move. I felt like if I didn’t do anything, none of it would be true. I’d be frozen there forever, but I’d never have to know.
“Zhorzha!” Lance shouted.
“Can you turn that up? The TV—will you turn it up?” I said.
By the time he got the remote, it was too late. They’d already gone to a different story. Somebody was dead, maybe my sister was dead, and it was only worth sixty seconds on the news. I was standing in the middle of a bunch of broken glass and everyone in the bar area was staring at me. I should have started cleaning it up, but I took out my phone and pulled up a news website.
“Julia, will you get this cleaned up, and get those drinks, since Zhorzha is busy with other things?” Lance said. He sounded pissed, but I had to know.
“It’s okay,” Julia said and started sweeping up the glass.
BREAKING NEWS: Body Found in Falls City, Nebraska. May be hostage from El Dorado prison escape. That was all I could find. No other details.
“I think you should go home,” Lance said.
I wanted to argue, because I still had bills to pay, but I could barely hold the phone steady enough to read it.
“Until things are less stressful for you,” Julia said.
Right then it felt like that would never happen, and whatever Julia meant, I knew what Lance meant. I was fired.
I went out to my car, still feeling shaky, and forced myself to do what I was supposed to do. I called Mom, hoping she wouldn’t answer, but she picked up on the second ring.
“Yes, I saw,” she said. “And it’s not LaReigne.”
“Did the police tell you it’s not her?”
“I don’t need the police to tell me. I would know. If it were her, I would know.”
“I think you should call what’s his name, Mansur. He left you his card. You should call him and—”
“I’m not calling him!” she yelled. For a minute, neither of us said anything, but I could hear her panting, like she was going to have an asthma attack.
“Do you want me to come—”
“I’m telling you, it’s not her. You wouldn’t understand, but I’m her mother, and a mother knows. If my baby were dead, I would know.”
I let her have the last word, because there was nothing for me to say. After all, I wouldn’t understand. Besides, LaReigne was the one who got along with Mom. When Mom was upset, LaReigne calmed her down. When Mom was being stubborn, LaReigne talked her around. All Mom and I ever did was fight.
I went to the only place I had left to go: the Franks’ house. The woman who answered the door wasn’t Charlene, but she looked so much like her that she had to be her sister.
“You must be Gentry’s friend,” she said. “I’m his aunt Bernice.”
I followed her inside, where Charlene was at the kitchen bar. I could see she and Bernice must have been sitting there together talking, because there were two coffee mugs, and the TV was off. Charlene hadn’t been watching the news. She didn’t know.
“Hon, you don’t need to ring the bell,” Charlene said, when she saw me.
“I didn’t want to just barge in.” I’d worried I was taking advantage of Gentry’s family, but it was such a relief to walk into a calm and quiet house. Too quiet. Elana was there, working on a coloring book at a tabletop set up across her wheelchair.
“Barge all you want. A closed door never stops Bernice.”
Bernice swatted Charlene’s arm and they laughed at each other.
“How was Marcus today?” I said, but what I meant was where was he?
“He was mostly fine. A few tears at lunch, but a nap put him back to rights. The boys are in the backyard, if you want to go out,” Charlene said.
More than anything I wanted to see Marcus and make sure he was okay. In the yard, he was holding a little wooden sword and shield. He had on a chain mail shirt that