“The cops are at Finn’s house.”
“Shit,” he mutters, tugging off his cap and running his hands through his hair.
“And her mom called my mom to ask if we’d seen her.”
He raises an eyebrow. That’s how well known it is that if they’re calling me, they must really be desperate.
“So she really is gone?”
That word hangs between us as I turn down Alice’s street.
Gone.
There’s so many things in the air, so many questions, but it seems one thing is true: Rose Waller is gone.
7
Finn
The last place I want to be is at school, but it’s better than being at home. I know the most important thing right now is to act normal. To pretend like everything is okay.
Except it’s not okay.
Rose’s didn’t come to school yesterday.
Her car was found on Carter’s Bridge.
And today the police showed up at my house asking question after question until my mind was a jumbled, aching, muddled mess.
When was the last time you saw Rose?
Has she contacted you?
Did she seem upset?
Did she mention going anywhere?
Was she having car trouble?
Had you been fighting?
Nope, nothing is okay.
Including the fact that I’m tardy, and I have to stop by the office on my way to class for a note.
Ms. McCormack, the attendance worker, is a notorious hardass. She’s heard every lame excuse, dramatic excuse, bullshit excuse, and has zero fucks to give for whatever story kids walk through her door trying to convince her into giving them a pass.
One second after walking in the door, the urge to flee is back. Ms. McCormack sees me and stands, dabbing a tissue at her eyes.
“Sorry, I’m late,” I say, clutching the note from my mother. It doesn’t exactly say, “Please excuse my son, he was being interrogated by the police about his missing girlfriend,” but Thistle Cove is a small town and the implication is there.
Ms. McCormack waves it away.
“I know today is hard for you, son. Take your time. Everyone is very upset. Rose was a lovely young woman. I’m praying for her safety.”
A numb sensation rolls up my spine.
Coming to school was a bad idea.