The hospital receptionist puts out a call but says nobody came forward.

Zoe paces the living room, her face drawn with worry, her eyes becoming red as she holds back tears. Her voice is husky when she speaks. “She could still be there. You should go and check by Laura’s room. The parking lot. Anywhere. I’ll stay here with Jack and make more calls. Laura’s phonebook is in the drawer. I’ll call everyone I can think of.”

I nod. “Good.”

Zoe doesn’t look reassured. She’s bowing her head, chewing on her thumb. She blinks quickly against the rising tears, sniffling.

I step forward and wrap her in my arms. She feels tense, like a ball of clenched muscles. “We’ll find her.”

“She’s not with Justin or at the hospital. I don’t know where else she’d be.”

“We’ll find her.”

When I speak, I try to inject confidence into my voice, but I’m a nervous wreck myself. If Zoe has no idea where Megan could be, then I don’t stand a chance.

I go to the car and drive to the hospital. As I draw near to its bright lights, I pray that I’ll turn into the parking lot and see Megan standing out front.

She’s not there.

I park and go inside. I stop at the receptionist’s desk to ask again if anybody has seen Megan. She doesn’t remember seeing anyone matching Meg’s description.

I head to Laura’s room. Still empty. I scan the corridor. There’s no sign of Megan. Picking up the pace a little, I jog to the café. She’s not there.

I search everywhere in the hospital I can think to look. In the end, I have to admit defeat. I go back to the car, sit in the driver’s seat, and call Zoe.

“Any sign of her?”

“No,” Zoe answers. “She’s not there?”

“I can’t find her.”

A pause. “Come home. We’ll call the police.”

“The police?”

“She’s a missing person.”

“She’s fifteen, and it’s only been a couple of hours.”

“Come home, and we’ll talk about it.”

I drive back to Laura’s house, my stomach twisting in nervous knots. I have no idea where Megan could be, and the thought of getting the police involved makes the danger seem too real.

She’s not in danger. She’s taken off somewhere because she’s scared.

I pull up outside Laura’s house and let myself in. Zoe is still pacing in the living room where I left her. When I enter, she breathes a sigh of relief and rushes into my arms.

“Still no sign of her?” I ask.

Zoe shakes her head. “I’m getting worried, Tom. It’s nearly midnight.”

“Have you tried Megan’s cell again?”

“A hundred times. I don’t know if it’s turned off or out of power. I want to call the police.”

“They won’t take it seriously, Zoe. Megan’s practically an adult.”

“Practically an adult? Tom, she’s fifteen!”

“And spending nearly every night at her boyfriend’s. She’s probably out with friends right now.”

“If we call the police, they can keep looking for her.”

“I don’t think we need to do that yet.”

“She’s a young woman out alone at night in the dark in the dead of winter! She could be abducted, or worse. She could get herself drunk, fall into a ditch and freeze to death. It’s our job to keep her safe!”

My sister is fighting for her life. My niece is missing. The woman I love is tearing into me. I’ve missed my last four business meetings online. Everything is piling up. And it’s all on you, Tom.

“It’s not my job!” I flare. “My job was to visit for Christmas: to show my face, do my time, and go back home.”

Zoe’s eyes widen. Her lips part. She scowls. “Is that what this is about? That ‘family drama’ is getting too much for you?”

“I didn’t sign up for a search and rescue, Zoe. She’s a fifteen-year-old girl who’s had another rough patch in life. She’s probably holed up with some girlfriends, talking about how evil we are for not staying at the hospital.”

“Maybe she’s not wrong! You were eager to leave, Tom!”

“I didn’t hear you complaining! Aren’t you the one who always says the kids are the priority? I thought they’d do better at home.”

“I want to call the police.”

“Fine.”

We call the police. It takes them twenty minutes to arrive. In that time, Zoe and I sit on opposite sides of the sofa, not looking at each other, not talking. Every now and then, she glares daggers at me.

Can you blame her, Tom?

At last, two police officers arrive. It’s twelve-thirty by now, and as much as I’ve tried to convince Zoe that Megan’s out with friends, my own doubts are creeping in. It’s too late for a young woman to be out alone.

My head’s about to split open from all the worry I’m carrying. In one part of this town, Laura is having a blood clot cut out of her chest. Somewhere else, Megan’s out there; alone and in a bad state.

The officers take a seat in the living room. The older of the two takes out a notepad and begins to ask questions. “Can you describe the missing person?”

Zoe’s quick to answer. “Her name’s Megan Demont. She’s fifteen, about this tall. She’s got long blonde hair.”

“What was she last wearing?”

“I didn’t see her leave. She’s taken her purse with her. It’s black, with a red tassel and a gold clasp. She’s also wearing her favorite boots. They’re brown with a small heel. She usually wears a chunky knitted gray scarf when the weather’s like this.”

“Do you believe she left of her own accord?”

I answer. “We were here the whole time. She must have snuck out.”

The officer nods. “Is that usual behavior for her?”

I look to Zoe. She knows better than me.

“She’s been acting out recently. Her mom is seriously ill. She’s been spending more time at her boyfriend’s lately, staying out late.”

“Have you contacted the boyfriend?”

“I’ve called his mother,” I say. “She says he’s at a friend’s tonight.”

The officers exchange glances. The one asking the questions looks back at me. “And have you confirmed his story with this friend?”

I raise my eyebrows, looking across at Zoe hopefully. “You think he’s acting as an alibi?”

“It’s not unusual for young couples to lie for each other in situations like these. You should find out which friend this boy is supposed to be with, and check his story. If he’s not there, it’s likely that they’re together.”

Relief washes over me. Maybe she’s safe after all.

The officer senses my relief and smiles. “I don’t think you’ve got anything to worry about. We see this sort of thing all the time. To be safe, though, I’m going to log her in the system and send out a couple of our teams to have a look for her. She’s under twenty-one, so we’re not taking any chances, especially if she’s had a traumatic day.”

“Thank you, Officer.”

“No problem. If she turns up, please contact us so we can call off the search. If we find her, we’ll call you. If you haven’t heard from her within twenty-four hours, come by the station, and we’ll implement a more thorough search strategy.”

The officers leave, and I feel some of the weight of that worry lifted from my shoulders. I turn to Zoe. “That’s good news, right?”

“A stranger’s best guess? He doesn’t know Megan. She could still be anywhere.”

“I’ll call Tess first thing in the morning.”

“What about tonight?”

“What do you want me to do? We’ve looked everywhere we can think to look. We’ve called the police. We need to wait here for her.”

Zoe folds her arms over her chest. “Why aren’t you more worried about her?”

“I am worried, but we’ve got no reason to lose our heads right now. While we’re out looking for Megan, we could find out that Laura’s flatlined. I’m trying to do the best for both of them.”

“Don’t say that.” Zoe gasps. “That’s not going to happen.”

“I know it’s not.”

“Jesus, Tom, you can be so cold.”

“Cold? I’m doing the best I can.”

“It’s like this isn’t happening to you. You’re acting like you’re working your way through a business problem. Where’s the emotion?”

I hold up my hands. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

Zoe walks away, shaking her head. She doesn’t say anything else to me. She just disappears upstairs. I hear her on the phone again, calling Tess at one-thirty in the morning.

I set up my bed on the sofa, but I can’t sleep. I keep thinking of Megan, out on the streets, or at some wild party. God knows what she’s up to right now, or who she’s with. My mind runs through every worst-case scenario. I feel sick to my stomach.

Then my thoughts turn to Laura. I imagine surgeons tearing her rib cage apart to claw at her veins. Is that how this surgery works? Grisly operations dance in my head. I can’t stand the thought of Laura being ripped apart on a cold metal table.

How can Zoe say I’m cold? I’d do anything for them.