a foreign language she wasn’t sure she was pronouncing correctly “—then you definitely need to go to the police. You and Holden should have done that from the beginning.”
“If my dad’s the one who kidnapped me, then who knows if any of this is real?” I countered. “Who knows if he’s even waiting for me in Portland? Who knows if anything my mom said on the phone this morning is even true? What if he’s gone to Edgecliffe, what if Holden’s in trouble? What if—”
I cut off, not wanting to finish the thought. Talking to my mom and sisters this morning had healed a part of me I hadn’t even realized was wounded. I hated to think of that being tainted now. And I really couldn’t stand the thought of Holden being at risk.
“Ari, why would he go to Edgecliffe if he knows you’re coming to Portland?” Daisy said as she pulled a U-turn and began driving back in the opposite direction.
“I don’t know! But I need to talk to him. I just—I have to.”
I pulled my phone out and punched in Holden’s number. It was one of only three stored in the phone. It rang. And rang. And rang.
And went to voicemail.
I groaned in frustration. “Dammit, why isn’t he picking up?”
“Because Holden never picks up,” Daisy said. “I’ve known the guy for years and I’ve seen him use the phone maybe three times. It’s not personal.”
Maybe. But then why had he insisted that I have his number? I couldn’t shake my sense that something was wrong—very wrong. I mean, something was obviously wrong if my own father was behind this. If he could order people to hurt me, tell them to—
My thoughts darted away. I didn’t want to look straight at the consequences of that idea. It was like staring into a particularly cruel sun.
I couldn’t make it all add up in my head. Loose threads dangled like one of the tapestries Frog liked to shred, but I didn’t have time to think it all through now. I needed Holden, and if he wasn’t picking up, maybe he’d see my text. I dashed off a message to him and held my breath until he replied.
“He’s at home,” I said, relief surging through me.
“Where else would he be?” Daisy asked, casting a worried glance at me as she drove.
“I don’t know.” I drummed my fingers on my legs. “I’m just worried.”
“Yeah, you’ve made that clear. What else did he say? I suppose it’s too much to hope that he agrees with me about going to the police?”
I bit my lip, that rush of relief already ebbing. Fear nibbled at my gut like a school of hungry minnows.
“Just that he’s home and to meet him in the library.”
“You’re both idiots,” Daisy sighed. “You can meet him in the library, but then you’re going to march right back out again, both of you, and let me drive you down to the station.”
My stomach turned at the thought of explaining it all—the kidnapping, the confusion, the everything of it all—to a bunch of hard-eyed strangers who would probably look askance at the whole thing.
Who could I even appeal to for evidence? Holden would back me up, but was it safe to call my mom at this point? If she wasn’t involved, I didn’t want to put her in danger, and if she was…
The thought made me sick.
“I mean it,” Daisy said. “I’m not even turning off the car. You go in, you get him, and then we deal with this like rational adults. The way you should have from the beginning.”
Rational. Right. Like there was any chance of that now.
Had there ever been? I thought back to the day that I’d met Holden. The rational thing then would have been to go to the cops. A hospital, at least. But from the moment I’d met him, it was like I’d fallen under some kind of spell. Rationality was impossible around him.
“Don’t worry.” Daisy reached out and patted my knee. “It’ll be okay.”
I knew she was just trying to help, but her bedside manner left something to be desired. I’d be glad to know she had my back in a fight, but comfort and warmth was not her strong suit.
“Just hurry,” I said, my voice tight.
I didn’t know how long I’d been asleep, so I wasn’t sure how far we’d gone. The drive back to Edgecliffe felt endless, and only got slower once we got to Birch Bay, looking like a village on a