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Chapter 11: Caras pov

  “Ok, what do we know for sure?” Calli asked from my desk. Her computer displayed a blank document titled “Finding Hannah (and the randoms)”.

  We’d convinced Calli’s parents to let her come over to my house after school. As soon as we’d gotten up to my room, we’d started working the case.

  “Well,” I said from my bed, as I set my volleyball up in the air over and over. “Ms. Blem obviously has history with the range. And she thinks it’s really dangerous.”

  Calli’s fingers flew across the keyboard.

  “Hey,” I caught my ball and sat up. “Look up if anything bad has happened at the range before. Maybe we’ll find something that shows what could have happened to the rest of them.”

  We found absolutely nothing all afternoon. According to the internet the range was just boring, old, and abandoned. Just another building in need of demolition.

  Calli was becoming increasingly talkative as the web search went on. She was being extra reassuring and trying to comfort me.

  “It’s whatever,” I finally said. “Tomorrow, we confront Ms. Blem. She’ll have the answers.”

  I caught a strange look on Calli’s face. It was gone almost instantly but I was sure I’d seen it. Was she doubting me? Did she think I’d gone crazy?

  “Ok,” she finally said. “We’ll ask her some questions after school, sure. But what happens if she doesn’t know anything.”

  “She knows something,” I insisted, trying to keep the snap out of my voice.

  Calli nodded but she was looking at me with worried eyes.

  There was a knock on the door. Mom poked her head in and told Calli her mom was there to pick her up. Calli gave me a pointed look before she left. Meaning: ask your parents.

  I sighed and walked downstairs for another unbearable dinner. I was surprised to find that my mom had made fish. We never had fish. Hannah was allergic.

  I pushed the salmon around my plate in silence. No one else seemed to think eating the fish was a form of betrayal as they were all demolishing the food on their plates. I turned to see Mocha sitting by his bowl and not eating a single thing. At least someone gets it, I thought miserably.

  “Are they any closer to finding Hannah?” I asked even though I knew the answer.

  “No honey,” Mom said emotionlessly.

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  Something about the way she said it made me mad. I dropped my fork onto my plate. Dad and Earnest looked up at the noise.

  “Did you even cry mom?”

  There was a small moment of silence.

  “Cara,” Dad said in a warning voice.

  But I wasn’t going to stop. “Don’t you ever wonder if she just ran away? Maybe she just didn’t like it here. I wouldn’t if I were her.”

  “She wouldn’t run away,” Mom said. “We are letting the police handle-”

  “I’m starting to think you just don’t care whether she comes back or not. You hardly cared about her when she was here.” My voice was rising. In the back of my mind, I knew I shouldn’t be talking this way to my mom. A week ago, I wouldn’t have even dreamed of it. But now the words were flowing out, and I didn’t really want to stop them.

  “Stop it right now.” Dad commanded.

  “Do you even know her favorite color? Do you know what she wants to be when she grows up? Do you know her dream college? Do you even know her favorite food?”

  “CARA!” Dad slammed his fist on the table, rattling out plates. I shut my mouth tight. Earnest was quietly crying in his chair.

  “We loved Hannah. For you to say these things to us, to your mother, it’s unacceptable. Do you understand me?”

  I took a deep breath. “I don’t think she knew. I don’t think she knew you loved her deep down.”

  “Go to your room,” Dad said, sounding more shocked than angry.

  I glared at him for a moment and then pushed myself away from the table. I gathered Mocha in my arms. As I headed for the stairs, I heard Earnest whisper: “It’s red.”

  I paused for a second and looked back at him, but he wouldn’t make eye contact with me. I gulped and went up to my room.

  I stayed up most of the night with Mocha curled against me. Not because I wanted to but because I couldn't sleep. The house just didn’t feel right anymore now that Hannah wasn’t asleep in the other room.

  Since my brain couldn’t quiet down, I put my awareness to use. I started researching the range again. Surely Calli and I had missed something on our first go around. But I didn’t find anything interesting. The only thing it was ever recognized for online were its father-son bonding Saturdays. Not exactly riveting stuff.

  On a whim, I looked up Ms. Blem. (Hey, that rhymes!) But I found absolutely nothing. It was weird. Usually, I could figure out everything there is to know about a teacher in like two seconds. Like when Calli and I stalked Mr. Sears... But it was like Ms. Blem didn’t even exist outside of Benjamin Middle. No Facebook, no Instagram, no nothing. Dead end.

  I groaned and turned over in bed. Even though it was 2 in the morning I still didn’t feel like sleeping so I looked up other local missing children. What I found doing that was more scary than useful. There were disturbing stories where parents discovered their children kidnapped, abused, and murdered. I hate to admit it, but a seed of doubt sprouted in my mind then. What if Hannah was gone forever?

  I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling in the dark, trying my hardest to hold back tears. My room didn’t feel comfortable anymore. I shook Mocha awake next to me and picked him up before padding over to Hannah’s room.

  Once I’d carefully shut the door behind me, not wanting to wake my family, I flipped on the lights.

  Mocha plopped himself on her bed and passed out again, but I felt on edge. Hannah’s room was utterly bland. She didn’t have any posters up in her room like I did. There were no decorations on her windowsill and nothing personal on her desk. And then there was that bulky canvas and easel tucked into the corner of the room. Also, blank.

  A terrible thought settled deep inside me. When I’d asked my parents if they thought Hannah had simply run away, it was my anger talking. I hadn’t actually meant it. But now, looking at Hannah’s room and how completely devoid of life it was I wondered if maybe she really had.

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