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When 17-year-old Arbor Hayes' best friend turns up alive after a mysterious six-month disappearance, she must piece together the fragments of her story to make sense of what happened. But as clues e...
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From the safety of my living room couch, I stare at the white notebook in my lap, and an uneasy feeling settles over me.
This is it; the moment I've been waiting for.
Finally, I may have some real answers as to what Emma's been up to. A quick flip through the pages when I was in her bedroom wasn't enough to answer any questions. I'll have to read the entire thing. Before I left, I tucked the notebook in the waistband of my jeans so Mr. Navarro wouldn't know I took it.
I'm just hoping he keeps his mouth shut and doesn't tell Emma I was there. I told him that framing the photo was a secret and he said he wouldn't tell. But still. What if it slips out? Or what if he doesn't care about surprises and this blows up in my face?
Either way, there's no chance I'm sleeping in my room now that I know what Emma is capable of. If she finds out I went snooping through her belongings, she's liable to come over here and strangle me in my sleep. And since I can't lock my bedroom window, I settle on the next best thing: locking my bedroom door. I don't have a key, but I'll worry about that later.
In the meantime, I grab everything I might need to get me through the night. Pajamas. Phone charger. Wireless earbuds. And when Mom gets home from work, I'll see if I can bunk with her. She wouldn't dream of saying no after what happened this morning.
The only thing left to do, besides dive into Emma's most private and personal thoughts, is to tell Jordan what I found. Lucky for me, she answers on the first ring.
"You'll never guess what I did," I blurt into the phone.
She doesn't even hesitate. "Discovered what came first—the chicken or the egg?"
I can't wipe the grin from my face. "Even better," I say, feeling more than a little proud of myself. "I went through Emma's room."
"You're kidding! Already?"
I sink back into the couch cushion and cross my legs, the notebook balanced on my lap. "The opportunity presented itself unexpectedly."
There's a smile in her voice. "Well aren't you a natural born Nancy Drew?"
"Wait. I thought we were playing Veronica Mars?"
"You can call yourself Scooby Doo for all I care, just as long as you found something useful."
"I have her journal." A stunned silence fills the distance between us. "Are you still there?" I finally ask, tapping the screen with my finger.
"I'm here." It's nearly a whisper. "What does it say?"
An uneasiness lurks in her question. I blank for a moment before a chilling realization hits me. I thought Jordan would be thrilled with the potential information I uncovered, but I never stopped to think about how else she might feel.
For all we know, Emma could have written about her and Jordan's relationship, and here I am, holding what could be the most intimate details of Jordan's life.
