“Don’t forget your pill, hon.”
Riley’s stomach fluttered madly. This was crazy. This was her mother. The tiny white pill blurred and swam in front of Riley’s eyes. What if the doctor was in on it? What if this wasn’t even the pill he prescribed?
She scrutinized the thing, hoping that etched there across the face would be something to put her mind at ease: RILEY’S KLONOPIN FOR ANXIETY or NOT SOME SORT OF KNOCK-OUT DRUG.
“I’m no doctor, turnip, but I’m pretty sure the pill works best when you actually put it in your mouth and swallow it.”
Her father was smiling kindly, his glasses dipping down his nose as he eyed Riley.
“What if I don’t want to take it?”
Riley’s mouth was dry, and her pulse was pounding in her ears. How would they react?
“Well, if you don’t think you need to take them anymore, we can go see Dr. Morley.”
“Why do I need to see the doctor to stop taking them?”
“Because it could be dangerous, Ry. That’s why I give them to you every morning, you nut. If you skip doses, you can get a stomachache, your panic attacks could come back, or worse.”
Riley swung her head toward her mother. “What do you mean worse?”
“You’ll grow chest hair.” Her father folded the paper. “Now swallow that pill and that bowl of whats-it-snaps and let’s get in the car. You’re going to make me late for work.”
Riley popped the pill into her mouth and took a big gulp of juice, the bitter liquid burning her throat. She grabbed her backpack, and when her father leaned in to kiss her mother, Riley spat the slimy pill into her hand and tucked it into her jeans.
? ? ?
“The bus is leaving,” Riley’s father said, slamming the car door hard. The reverberation echoed through the quiet neighborhood. Riley was halfway into the passenger seat before she slapped her forehead.
“Crap. Forgot my purse.”
She pushed herself out of the car but was unable to escape her mother’s narrowed eyes as she stood in the doorway. “Sorry, Mom,” Riley mumbled as she jogged past her into the house.
Riley’s hand was on the knob when a movement at the house across the street caught her eye. Riley squinted hard, trying to focus, but the glare of the sun bouncing off the glass hurt her eyes. She was only able to make out a shadowy silhouette—a person or a bundle of leftover construction stuff?
My God, Ry, you’re really going crazy now. Criminal parents, spies in empty houses…I’m going to kill Shelby when I get to school.
“Come on, Ry!” her father said.
Riley bounded into the car and belted herself in. As they backed down the driveway, she glanced up at the house again, but now there was nothing in the window.
“So, did someone move into the house across the street?”
“No,” her father said. “I don’t think it’s ready yet. I talked to one of the realtors last week, and she said the workers had broken a back window. Which reminds me—I promised your mother we’d go over the rules for your trip.”
Riley groaned. “I know Mom’s rules. Don’t talk to strangers, don’t take anything from strangers, never leave my Coke unattended. Stop, drop, and roll.” She grinned at the last one.
“Mom and I just don’t want you to forget. You were asleep by the time we got home last night, and you left the front door unlocked. A good gust of wind would have blown it wide open.”
THREE
Ice water shot through Riley’s veins, paralyzing every inch of her.
I locked the door, she wanted to shout. I know I did.
She bit her lower lip to hold back tears. Her dad must have seen her expression, because he leaned over and patted her thigh. “Don’t worry, hon. We’re not mad at you. It happens. Just make sure you don’t let it happen again.” His words sounded hollow though.
Riley nodded, clenching her jaw. She blinked, and the missing poster flashed behind her eyelids, those wide, dark eyes of the little girl burning into her soul.
“D-d-dad,” she started. Then, steeling herself, “Dad, there was some—”
What little voice she had was cut off by the shrill ring of her father’s phone. He held up a single finger to Riley and pressed the answer button on his earpiece.
“Glen Spencer.” He cocked his head for a microsecond while Riley tried to gather her thoughts and then start again. Sorry, he mouthed, client.
They made the rest of the drive in silence.
By three o’clock, Riley and Shelby had dumped their backpacks in Shelby’s trunk and were stuffing french fries in their mouth as they watched carnies snapping together rides in the back forty.
“I can’t believe we have to spend our whole night volunteering at this stupid thing. Don’t they know I have to pack?”
“Shelbs, we’re going to be gone for one night. How hard is it to pack for that?”