Nora
I am tucked away in room 304. Three times a day, someone brings food. None of it looks appetizing. It’s not home cooked. It is not organic—from the land. The noise here kept me up all night. Or maybe I just can’t sleep. At 10 A.M., the morning nurse wheels me into a room with a table and two chairs. Salve is trying to get me to talk. To tell him details. The paper-thin slippers Aubry bought at the gift shop do little to warm my ever-cold feet. The door opens and Salve strolls in. Instead of taking his normal seat across from me, he drags the chair around the table next to me. The sound of the legs on the floor makes me cringe. I don’t know why the sound doesn’t bother him, too.
“How are you?” he asks.
“I’m fine.”
Salve sighs but his eyes tell me he’s not giving up. “Anything other than fine?”
“I’m good. Is that what you want to hear?”
He cracks his neck and moves on. “What is Lotte’s last name?”
I stare at him in confusion. “Douglas. She is Holden’s little sister.”
“I’m going to show you some pictures, Nora. I need you to tell me if any of these men are Holden Douglas.” I watch him set out several photographs. Not that I need one. I could close my eyes and recount every detail of Holden’s face at any point from memory.
I shake my head. “Nope. None of those are him.”
Salve rubs his head, forehead to neck and back. “Do you think you could give a sketch artist a description for us?”
I stick my hands between my legs and nod. I think I’m safe, since I didn’t say anything relevant.
“That’s great. I’ll get a sketch artist in here as soon as possible. In the meantime, I have some bad news.”
Anxiety courses through my veins. Aubry. Angela. “What? What is it?” I ask.
“Our search turned up nothing on Holden Douglas. In fact, when we dug around more, there’s no trace of anyone named Holden Douglas anywhere near Pocketville.”
My face wrinkles in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Holden Douglas doesn’t exist.”
I feel outside of myself suddenly, like my world isn’t adding up and so I’ve removed myself from it until it sorts itself out. “What about the registration in the truck? Who does the truck belong to?”
Salve snorts. “There was no registration in the truck.”
My breath quickens. “But . . . but the license plate. Who do the plates belong to?”
“Nora, there were no plates on the truck either.”
I close my eyes and keep them squeezed shut. There were plates on the truck. What else could there be? “The VIN number.”
“Scratched off,” Salve says.
“Oh, come on!” I blurt. “This is insane. The truck had plates, I saw them.” I know I saw them. So many times. What was the number? I think Salve is a captious man. My credulity to believe anything he says is dwindling fast. Salve is calling my name but I tune him out.
Out, out, out.
I think hard.
“SK10 . . . ugh, I can’t remember.” I hit myself upside the head; angry. Salve reaches out and restrains my fist. The contact startles me and I flinch, yanking my wrist from him and instantly dropping my eyes to the floor.
“Nora, don’t hurt yourself,” he says, sincerely.
I shudder. “Don’t touch me,” I whisper. I’m not to be touched. I’m only his to touch.
I shake thoughts of Holden from my head.
“I’m sorry.” He throws his hands up in retreat.
“It had plates. I know it did. I almost remember them,” I say.
“Okay. I’ll run SK10 through the system and see what hits come up. But don’t beat yourself up over it. You have a concussion and serious other . . . traumas.” I turn my head away from him. I can’t look him in the eyes.
“Where are Aubry and Angela?” I ask, not looking at him.
“They headed home, as far as I know.”
My eyes snap to his. “I thought they were staying another night.”
He shrugs. “Sorry, kid, you’ll have to ask them.”
My breath leaves my lungs. I feel helpless. I need them here with me until . . . until it’s over. Until I’m sure they’re safe. This is my comeuppance for escaping.
“We need to focus on Charlotte. She’s only eleven, you said?” I nod. “And you’re sure she was in the truck with you when you crashed?”
I scowl at him. “How would I not be sure? She was sitting right next to me. I couldn’t leave her there!”
“With her brother? You couldn’t leave the girl with her brother, Holden?” he clarifies.
I sigh. “It wasn’t safe.”
“For you or for her?” Salve quirks an eyebrow.
“How is that even a question? Look. I don’t care if you don’t believe me but you’ve got to find Charlotte and make sure she’s okay. And she’s twelve now. Please,” I say. Lotte is not safe, she’s even less safe than Angela and her kids at this point. I can’t protect everyone.
“Nora, I want to help you but Holden Douglas doesn’t appear to exist and you haven’t told me anything outside of his name and an approximate location. You’ve got to help me out here.”
I shiver, despite having a blanket on my lap today. “If I tell you, you have to promise me that you will protect the Clark’s.”
Salve cracks his neck again. He looks tired. His eyes are dull and his hair looks like he just rolled out of bed. “What do the Clark’s have to do with this?”
“Nothing—that’s the problem. If I talk . . .” my voice fades. I clear my throat, try again. “If I talk, he will know and if he knows . . . he will find Aubry and Angela and Anton and Aimee.” I say their names like little prayers. “And he will kill them.”