Mira squared her stance, arms crossed over her chest. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because.”
“That’s not an answer.” I practically felt what little patience I had leaving my body.
She huffed and reached for her pack of cigarettes again.
“Those will kill you,” I said disdainfully.
She placed an unlit cigarette at her lips and looked up at me under dark brows. “So will a great many things, I imagine.” She lit the cigarette with her lighter and then flicked it open and closed repeatedly. It was gold, shiny, and seemed too big for her hands. I watched her stare at the lighter for a minute. “I’m out of here, Julian,” she said.
I stood in the way of the door. “No. I want to know where she is.”
“Great for you,” she said, moving around me. I blocked her again. She stood facing me, her eyes narrowed. She pulled the cigarette from her mouth and blew smoke in my face. “You will move.”
I gritted my teeth. “Tell me.”
She shoved around me out the door, headed towards her vehicle. I followed close behind. When she reached the car she spun around, causing me to stop quickly. “I don’t know, Julian. Okay? Even I don’t know where they are.” Something simmered on the edge of her words. If I knew her better, I’d almost call it fear. But since I didn’t, I watched her climb in her car and drive away.
July
I was getting nowhere in finding Andra. It was constant back and forth, scouring the internet for clues. And I couldn’t track down Mira either. I poured myself into writing another book, waiting. For what, I wasn’t sure.
August
I finished my novel. And still hadn’t heard a word from anyone. I made visits to the ranch, to Rosa specifically. But she was as dumbstruck and heartsick as I was.
Rosa cradled a coffee cup in her hand, her knuckles white and her eyes red. “I just hope that wherever she is, she’s safe.” And that was the crux of our heartsickness. Was Andra safe? Not hearing a single word one way or another was torture. The lack of knowledge bred fear, irrational fear especially.
“I’m trying to find her.” I was growing increasingly disappointed in myself. I should have known where she was by now. I’d found her so easily the first time. I was so lost in my thoughts, in my frustration, that I didn’t hear a word Rosa was saying. “What?” I asked, shaking my head.
Rosa placed her hand on mine. “You’ll find her,” she said with confidence. I was grateful someone believed in my abilities, because I didn’t.
October 15, 2010
It’d been more than three months since I’d last seen Andra. I’d tracked down Six’s mother again and did some minor surveillance, but couldn’t dredge anything up. I was in California, watching Six’s mother water her garden when a shadow fell over the passenger side of the vehicle.
“Julian.” The voice wasn’t warm and the tone was exceptionally unfriendly. The door opened and she slid in. Her hair was longer than it had been before, and a normal color. Brown. My chest tightened, thinking of Andra. It wasn’t her, of course. But this woman’s presence was a release of hope in my soul.
“Mira,” I returned, watching her settle in the seat.
“What do you think you’re doing here?” she asked, accusation in her voice.
I met her eyes, which were angry, dark brows drawn together. “What are you doing here?” I asked back.
Her mouth was in a thin line. For someone so small, her presence, her moodiness, sure took up a lot of space in the rented vehicle. “My intentions are better than yours,” she answered, without really answering.
“Oh?” I asked, pissed. “And why do you think that?”
I watched her pull a lighter from her pocket, recognized it immediately as the gold lighter she’d fiddled with the night I met her.
“No smoking in the car. It’s a rental.”
She snapped the lighter shut. “I don’t smoke.” She shook her head and looked at me, as if she couldn’t believe she’d said that. I was rather surprised too, given how she’d chained smoked right in front of me when we’d met.
“Why are you here?” she asked, turning around in the seat so she was fully facing me.
“To find Andra. I told you, I’m not going to just give up.” My own voice was impatient, frustrated.
She nodded and I watched her chew her lip as she looked around, at everything but me. “You really like her?”
Like her? I wanted to laugh in Mira’s face, but I knew that wouldn’t go over well. “I’m in love with her. She’s at the forefront of my mind, all day long. I’m in agony, not knowing anything.” It was the first time I’d allowed a glimpse of my feelings for her to be known to anyone but Andra herself. A dull ache resided in my chest as the words left my mouth. “I miss her.” I rubbed my hands through my hair. “No, that’s an inadequate word for how I feel about her.” I laughed without humor. “She thought I found her. But I didn’t. She found me. And now I’m lost again without her.”