Kota was right. Something was wrong. She needed help.
9
Early that evening, after Charlie was home and could keep an eye on Theo, Silas got into his car and drove until he reached Sunnyvale Court.
He pulled into Kota’s drive, got out of his sedan, and paused, checking out the neighborhood.
Nathan’s house across the street was dark. He wasn’t sure where Nathan was, but he might not even be home.
Silas examined the other houses. He could picture some of the other neighbors in his mind; he had met a couple of them.
The gray house had a different car than he was familiar with. That was the house with the new family? With Sang’s family?
There was a knock on the glass above Silas. Kota’s bedroom was over the garage, and Kota was at his window, waving down at him.
Silas put his keys into his pocket and went through the garage.
The house smelled of tomato sauce and pasta. There were sounds in the kitchen, possibly Erica finishing up dinner or cleaning up after.
Silas closed the door quietly then opened the one that led to the stairs that went up to Kota’s bedroom.
He closed Kota’s door, but before he finished climbing the stairs, Kota hung over the bannister.
“What’s going on?” Kota asked, a dark eyebrow going up. “Something wrong?”
Silas paused on the stairs, his weight making it creak a little. “Yeah,” he said. “Sang.”
Kota paused, lips twitching. Then he pursed his lips and nodded, motioning for Silas to come up the rest of the way.
Silas scaled the stairs, stopping at the top.
The bed was made, but Kota had pulled out the guest bed underneath. The desk chair had moved to the window that overlooked the driveway and beyond to the rest of the street.
Kota returned to it, sitting heavily. He leaned, with his elbows on the windowsill and his forehead pressed to the glass. “I’m keeping an eye out.”
Silas moved into the room slowly. There was a plate of spaghetti, barely touched, on the corner of the desk. The phone was nearby, plugged in, but not in its usual spot near the bed.
And there was the way Kota was sitting, bent over...
“How long have you been watching?” Silas asked.
“Since we got back,” Kota said. He sighed, his breath fogging up the glass temporarily. He sat back, looking over at Silas. “I have to watch her.”
“You don’t have to do it alone.”
Kota frowned. “I feel like it’s my... I don’t know.” He reached up, rubbing his fingers across his forehead. “I don’t want to call in anyone else if I’m wrong. What if she’s just impulsive? What if she lied to me? Like she was going to meet up at a friend’s house and she just didn’t want me to know after Max knocked her over and I practically made her come with me back here?”
Silas moved over to carefully sit on the end of Kota’s bed, avoiding putting his feet on the roll-out bed. “You made her come here?”
“She spent the night,” he said. “I was desperate. I didn’t want to risk her going anywhere else and then disappearing.”
Silas smoothed his hand across the baseball shirt he was wearing and considered it. “No,” he said. “She’s in trouble.”
“Part of me doesn’t want her to be in trouble,” Kota said. “I wish she was lying to me, just so I don’t have to make that call. Why do you think she’s in trouble?”
Silas shook his head and then shrugged. “I called her. After you found her number.”
Kota raised an eyebrow. His eyes were dark with heavy circles developing. “What? What did she say?”
“Barely anything,” Silas said. And he went over what he said and what happened. After, he added, “I’m pretty sure she stuck with me for as long as she could. She didn’t want to hang up, only she couldn’t say anything.”
Kota pressed his lips together, gazing at the windowsill. He slid his fingers against the woodgrain absently. Slowly, he turned and pressed his forehead to the window, close enough that his glasses became askew. “Our feelings aren’t enough.”
“They could be,” Silas said. “We could call. Find out.”
“What’s driving me crazy is I can’t find anything about her,” he said. “She had school records, but that’s it. Grades. Not that I dug deep, but there’s... nothing.” He drummed his fingers in rapid succession on the sill. “She wasn’t bruised, except for Max. I’m not picking up sexual abuse, because... I mean I’ve touched her. Hugged her. She didn’t pull away.”
“What about mental?” Silas asked.
Kota leaned back, folding his arms over his chest and keeping his focus beyond the window. “She seems normal. Shy, but normal. That’s my problem. She wanted to run off last night, but she claimed to me she was just going to spend the night and then go back. Rebellious, but not... She’s not showing any signs whatsoever of abuse, which I know doesn’t mean anything, but... we can’t make a call like that on gut instincts.”
Silas reached up, wiping at his chin, wanting to give Kota some answers but unable to offer any. “It’ll probably look bad if we call the Academy and tell them we suspect something and she shows up with bruises that we caused.” He was saying we loosely, but he didn’t want Kota to go this alone anymore. It was obvious this needed more than one person.
Kota nodded slowly, gazing out but not responding otherwise.
“And we should continue to try to stay in contact,” Silas said. “Invite her places with us, whenever she can go.”
Kota continued to nod, rocking back and forth in his computer chair slightly. “I can do that.”
“And we should keep an eye on her. To make sure she doesn’t try to run off again.”
Kota paused in his movement, looking over once again at Silas. “I’m doing that, but there’s no reason for you to stick around.”
“You can’t stay up all night,” Silas said and then stood up so he could reach into his pocket. “How far do you want this to go?”
Kota frowned. “I can handle...” He stopped himself and sighed, his head rolling back. He closed his eyes behind his glasses. “Who am I kidding? I need more eyes than I’ve got. There’s no telling if she’ll run out the back way because she thinks I’m watching or...”
Silas smirked. “You’ve got four eyes, at least. I mean six.” He chuckled and motioned to his own eyes. “Get it? Glasses?”
Kota offered a half smirk. “Make it eight. Maybe Victor. But let’s keep it to just us. For now. That’s enough for a rotation.”
Silas nodded and typed in a message for Victor to call in, or drive in, if he wasn’t already busy. “Speaking of which, looks like it’s my turn.” He walked over and nudged Kota’s arm. “You were up all night last night, yeah? Time to turn in.”
“Not all night, but I was up early before Mom. I was drying Sang’s clothes in the dryer...” Kota breathed in heavily through his nose and then out in a huff. “Wake me if she tries to take off. Let me get to her first, if possible.” He got up, dragging himself to the roll-away bed.
Silas took his seat at the window. “I won’t wait if I can’t help it.”
“Yeah,” Kota said, and landed hard on his side on the bed, on top of the pillow.
“Don’t you want your own bed?”
“Save it for her, if she comes over tonight,” he said into the pillow, barely audible for the slurring.
He must have been really tired. Within minutes, Silas was pretty sure he was sleeping.
Silas kept his eyes on the gray house, watching the lights and waiting for Victor to call him back. Maybe they could rig up an outside video feed or security of some sort, just to see who left and when.
Kota may have been right. From the outside, Sang didn’t appear abused, just shy, and partially unruly.