“I’m not waiting around to find out.” Emily started toward the parking lot, then noticed Hanna trudging out the door with an ashamed look on her face. She waved her over. “You have to see this.”
Hanna looked pained, like she didn’t feel like dealing with anything right now, but she walked over and inspected the text. Color drained from her face. “Shit. How could this happen?”
“I don’t know. But I have to save her.” Emily’s eyes darted back and forth. “If Ali has her, who knows what she’ll do?”
“Em, it’s not Ali who has Violet,” Aria whispered. “Don’t you see? It’s Gayle. I saw her going into Babies “R” Us last night with a huge, weird smile on her face. She was getting ready for when she found your baby.”
Emily frowned, then peered at the hulking museum behind them. “But isn’t Gayle here? I thought I saw her talking to your dad, Hanna.”
Hanna bit her lip. “Actually, I haven’t seen her all night.”
“Of course she’s not here,” Aria said. “She’s at this house on Mockingbird Drive!” She looked at Hanna. “You’re with me, right? You think this is Gayle?”
A conflicted look crossed Hanna’s face. “I think so. But why would Gayle tell us she has Violet if she wants to keep her for herself? It sounds like a setup.”
“I don’t care!” Emily grabbed Aria’s car keys from her hands. “This is my daughter’s life we’re talking about! I’m sorry, Aria, but I’m going to that house, even if I have to go alone!”
Aria set her jaw. “We’re not letting you go alone.”
“We’re not?” Hanna squeaked.
Aria gave Hanna a look. “Of course we’re not.” She snatched the car keys back from Emily, marched across the parking lot, and slid into the driver’s seat. “C’mon, Em. Let’s go. You too, Hanna.”
The girls got into the car and slammed the doors. Aria kicked off her high heels, gunned the engine, and cranked the heat up high. As she pulled out of the parking lot, she looked behind her and saw a perfectly round, eerily yellow moon reflected in the museum windows. And there, next to the moon’s reflection, was a person in silhouette. Watching. Maybe even laughing at what fools they were.
Aria breathed in sharply, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end. But when she looked at the window again, only the moon was there, bright and full, filling up the expanse of the glass.
30
THE GIRL IN THE PHOTO
Twenty-five minutes and three wrong turns later, the girls pulled onto Mockingbird Drive, a twisting street on the other side of Mount Kale. “Whoa,” Hanna mumbled, staring through the fog, which had rolled in heavily. Every estate was on a massive plot of land. Winding driveways led to faux castles, French estates, Tudor manors, and buildings that looked like a cross between the Capitol and a Frank Gehry masterpiece. Ferraris sat in driveways. Tennis court lights twinkled in backyards. Hanna was used to luxurious houses like Noel’s, Spencer’s, and even her dad’s new place, but people who lived in this neighborhood had more money than they knew what to do with, and they didn’t mind flaunting it.
The next mailbox bore the number 56 in Gothic script, and Aria rolled slowly up the long drive. Tall, imposing trees made a canopy over the road, creating a spooky tunnel. They passed a huge, six-car garage and a horse stable, and then came upon the house, an imposing mansion with columns and huge arched windows. It was positioned a bit cockeyed on the lot, probably angled so that it got the best morning sun. Not a single light was on in the windows.
“Um, now what?” Hanna whispered as Aria cut the engine.
“Come on.” Emily opened her car door and jogged up the front walk. Hanna and Aria scrambled after her. When Hanna heard a whispering sound, her heart began to thud. What if A had led them straight into a trap?
“Where do you think Spencer is?” Emily said over her shoulder. “She hasn’t responded to my texts.” They’d sent Spencer messages about what was going on and demanded that she meet them here.
“Maybe it took a while for her to get released from the hospital,” Hanna whispered.
“Or maybe she got as lost as we did.” Aria stepped up on the porch and stared at the doorbell. “What are we supposed to do, ring? ‘Hey, A, we’re here!’” She looked at Hanna. “You do it.”
Hanna’s eyes bulged. “No way!”
“I’ll do it.” Emily touched the door, and it opened with a creak that sounded exactly like a haunted house entrance. Hanna shivered. What kind of person left their front door open in the middle of the night?
Emily pushed past them and walked into the foyer. “Hello?” she called out.
Hanna followed her. The foyer smelled oddly of nail polish remover. A single lamp on a console table was lit, showing a double staircase, an impressive crystal chandelier, and a wall full of black-and-white paintings of undulating sand dunes, animal skulls, and possessed-looking vultures. Heavy curtains hung on the windows in the room to the right; thick wool rugs decorated the floors. The coat closet door was ajar, and several jackets swung from hangers. The place had a museumlike stillness, as though it were a movie set, not someone’s actual house.
“Hello?” Emily said again.
There was no answer. Emily peered up the stairs. Aria wandered toward the kitchen. Hanna picked up a stone rabbit on the table next to the front door and set it down again. It was so quiet, she began to hear noises that might not have been there. A nervous swallow. A slight rustle. A joint crack.