VANISHED (#1 in the VANISHED series) #NaNoWriMo2019 ✔

t w e n t y ✔

Hours passed. Or minutes. Or days; Arielle wasn't paying attention and didn't want to. She barely had enough strength to drive, barely kept watch on the signs she moved past. None of them held her interest. She vaguely scrutinized the areas she drove through, but none meant anything. Because nothing mattered anymore.

A part of her believed she was heading home. Racing to meet with Stella's grandmother—who hadn't died in the fire—to locate her dad, to get far from the nonsense trip she and Stella had commenced. A trip that cost Stella her life.

It wasn't fair; it wasn't. Stella had finally figured herself out. Finally came to terms with who she was meant to become. Finally accepted her gifts and was willing to use them to help others, give them answers... yet no one was there to help her.

I wasn't, so this is my fault.

Deep down Arielle knew she had no responsibility in Stella's death; yet a tiny bell kept ringing in her head, saying otherwise. It reminded her that had she heeded Stella's warnings and driven home at once, maybe Stella wouldn't have been in the house. Maybe the fire wouldn't have started and devoured her soul. Maybe.

Yes, maybe. The same dreadful word that haunted her after her mom's death. Maybe she shouldn't have been such a tantrum-prone child. Maybe she should have listened, or spent more time with her, or realized what a wonderful woman she was. And Connor—her brother—popped in and out of her mind, too. And as she thought of him, more maybes surfaced, followed by a ton of what if's. What if she'd been closer to him? What if she observed his habits more, noticed something was wrong?

She didn't want to get started on Rachel. Dear, sweet Rachel—a bright stream of sunlight in a blackened storm. She'd been there through it all—Mom, Connor, depression, fear, running away. And then she vanished, buried beneath six feet of thick dirt.

And Jade. Beautiful, brave, blissful Jade.

They took her, too.

But who was they? Was there a they? "This makes no fucking sense."

Arielle pressed harder on the gas pedal as she saw a rest-stop up ahead. Her eyes had clogged with so much liquid she knew she'd be putting everyone in danger if she continued this way. The time on her dashboard showed two AM; she'd been going for hours, and needed a break if she wanted to make it home in one piece. Alive.

She rolled into the deserted rest-area and turned the engine off. She kept the doors locked—having read enough horror stories about women kidnapped in parking lots and off the freeway—and slouched in her seat. Her hands ached, and she stretched her fingers, bending and straightening them hoping to relieve her tension. She'd clutched the steering wheel so tight she was surprised she hadn't ripped it off.

Pulling down her compartment mirror, she gasped at her reflection. Her eyes were worse than earlier; more bloodshot, glossy, glazed, changing color from hazel to a gloomy crimson. "Shit." She rummaged about in her middle dashboard for some tissues and instead found her phone.

It flashed with missed calls and text messages. Her dad had called five times; Stella's grandmother twice; and an unknown number had left voicemails, too. A few acquaintances had sent apologies, and one text left her breathless when she read it; it was from Jade's mother, asking if she was okay, if she needed help.

"Crap." She bit her lip as another wave of raging tears splashed down her cheeks. She was in no state to talk to anyone, so she texted her dad to reassure him.

I'm fine and driving home. Love you.

Then she typed something for Stella's grandmother, but erased and restarted so many times, she threw the cell onto the passenger seat and groaned.