Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 69895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Zachary looked out the window. It was the same window he’d looked out nearly every day the first year they’d moved here. He’d looked out the window between drawings and he’d wondered if Sarah was looking out a window somewhere too, thinking about him. Thinking at all.
“There was an investigation. Neighbors, Police, FBI. Tracker dogs and helicopters and Missing posters.”
He’d been tasked with putting those posters on every telephone pole, bulletin board, and bus stop, until his thumb and forefinger blistered from the staple gun and he wondered if his parents would even notice if he didn’t come home. His mother was so busy orchestrating her own investigation that after a while even the lead detective on the case seemed to wince when she came near. His father was equally preoccupied with the kind of blank, inner-focused journey that left no evidence for his family, no breadcrumb trail that could be followed, and no indication that contact would be welcome.
“That’s...that’s a nightmare. Jesus, I’m so sorry. What did they think happened? If you don’t mind me asking...”
Zachary hadn’t spoken about Sarah in a very long time.
“The police’s official conclusion was that she ran away. So after she turned eighteen, about nine months after she disappeared, they stopped looking. They hadn’t found any evidence of foul play and they couldn’t link Sarah to any criminal behavior.”
“Would she have done that? Run away?”
That was the question Zachary had asked himself a thousand times. His mother had dismissed that possibility out of hand—but of course she had. He thought Sarah very well might have left. But she had never been cruel, and it would take real cruelty to put her family through leaving without a trace and never letting them know she was okay.
“I think she left on purpose. But then something happened to her that prevented her from getting in touch.”
“But your parents didn’t agree?”
“No. My dad gave up when the cops gave up. Not that he didn’t care. He just...he’s not a creative person. I don’t think he had the ability to imagine anything but her dead or wanting nothing to do with us. It made him too sad, so he just stopped talking about it.”
“Self-protection,” Bram murmured.
It was a generous description.
“And your mom?”
For Zachary, the word mom was synonymous with dogged, obsessive, single-minded, exhausting. At least it was since Sarah disappeared and his mother decided she had one purpose in life: prove to the world that Sarah had been murdered.
She had believed that she would solve Sarah’s case. And for two years she’d spent every moment and dollar trying to do just that.
The local news coverage had dried up and the neighbors had stopped volunteering their Saturdays for search parties, and the cops had said that with no evidence they couldn’t devote further resources to the case.
It had made sense to Zachary. Sarah was just one person. She couldn’t be the focus of everyone’s energy forever. No one could.
But his mother took the public falling off as a personal betrayal. A grand injustice that signified everything that was wrong with the world, and nothing could convince her otherwise.
“My mother loves the case more than she ever loved having Sarah in her life.”
He bit his lip. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. He wasn’t even entirely sure it was true. His mother loved Sarah, but they hadn’t had an easy relationship. Without Sarah there, his mother had been able to reimagine their relationship exactly as she pleased.
Bram didn’t try to soothe him. No I’m sure that’s not true bullshit. Bram just said, “What about you?”
“What about me what?”
“Does she love her relationship with Sarah’s case more than she loves you?”
“Yeah.”
And that was the truth.
Bram’s eyes welled with empathy.
“That must be pretty hard?”
Zachary shrugged.
It had. He was there and Sarah was gone. To his mother that meant Zachary was fine and Sarah needed her. But the truth was that Zachary had not been fine. He had needed her. And Sarah was probably dead. So. Bad choice, Mom.
“She just...she wants to talk about it all the time. Still. She asks me to help her put out information online. She has a subreddit. She’s...”
“Fixated.”
It was the right word.
“It’s the defining thing in her life. She’s Sarah Glass’ mother. There just isn’t much room for anyone else in her life because no one else knows what it’s like to be Sarah Glass’ mother. She, conveniently, is always going to be the expert.”
“What about your dad?”
“Oh, he’s not Sarah Glass’ mother either, so he doesn’t count.”
Bram nodded.
“Is he Zachary Glass’ father?”
“Sometimes. He likes quantitative successes. It’s easy to know what to say to them.”
Bram opened his mouth and then closed it.
“I can’t even imagine,” he said. “In some ways, I think if one of my siblings disappeared, maybe I’d be like your mom.”
Zachary knew what he meant. Bram meant that he loved them so much he’d never give up on them. But that wasn’t the way it worked. And that wouldn’t make him similar to Zachary’s mom, because that wasn’t how she felt.