The Vanishing Girls Of Willow Creek (Willow Creek, #1)

Chapter Two

Anam Cara: (n. Gaelic) A person with whom you can share your deepest thoughts, feelings, and dreams with; your soul friend.

I barely remembered falling asleep last night. Though the next thing I remember is being woken up by my phone ringing incessantly.

Groaning, I grabbed it from my bedside table.

"Hello," I answered, still half asleep, as apparent by my groggy tone.

"Harley!" It was Jonathan. His tone was frantic.

This woke me right up.

"Jon?! What's wrong?!"

"Are you by a TV?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Turn on the news."

Quickly scrambling around for the remote, I found it, turned on the TV, and scrolled to the news channel.

"Do you see it?"

"Oh my god."

There was another disappearance.

Scrambling for the remote, I found it and switched on the TV to the news channel. "Do you see it?"

"Oh my god." My heart caught in my throat as I saw the breaking news of another disappearance—this time someone familiar: Miranda Hutchins.

Miranda Hutchins was no stranger to me; we shared a complicated history marred by her relentless bullying tactics. Despite her malicious actions towards me, a part of me couldn't help but feel sympathy for her family, now facing the torment of uncertainty over her whereabouts.

It must be awful not knowing where your child is or if they're okay. To have that feeling when you're at the park with your son or daughter and lose sight of them, even for a second, that gripping panic that overcomes you. To have that feeling continue without setting eyes on your child must be unbearable.

The weirdest thing is that I didn't remember seeing her at all yesterday. I would have remembered too, because she made it her mission to ruin my day every time we crossed paths. Come to think of it, she hadn't been at school for the past three days.

"She was reported missing yesterday. Nobody's seen her in three days."

"I was about to say. I've been torment-free for three days, which is a miracle in itself. But if nobody's seen her in three days, why was she only reported missing yesterday?"

"Her parents probably thought she was with Jackson."

Jackson was our school's golden boy—co-captain of the basketball team, charismatic, popular, and entwined with Miranda in an on-again, off-again romance that seemed destined for disaster.

Miranda, on the other hand, was the most popular girl in school, the beauty queen, and the object of many boys' desires.

They made the perfect couple, or so it seemed.

Their on-again, off-again relationship was the talk of the town. They would break up, make up, and break up again, each time more dramatic than the last. Their dynamics were volatile yet magnetic, drawing them together even amidst chaos and uncertainty.

"I don't want to jump the gun, but something about this doesn't feel right."

We lived in a small town where everyone knew everyone. It was a place where my mother's bakery served as the town's gathering place, where gossip flowed as freely as the coffee. Everyone knew everyone's business, and if they didn't know it, they would make sure to find out. Every corner held a story, and every whispered conversation carried weight.