Thought I Knew You(54)

“Where’s Leah?” I asked, alarmed.

Hannah shrugged, unconcerned, as her sister frequently went missing. Leah was usually found hiding somewhere nearby.

I pulled Hannah up by her hand. “Come on. Let’s go find her.” We went through the house calling “Le-AH!” in every room, looking under beds and in closets. I kept checking out the window of the back bedroom that overlooked the pool, relieved to keep seeing the calm, undisturbed water.

After ten minutes, I started to feel a tightening in my throat. “Leah! If you are hiding and you don’t come out right now, I will put Uglydoll in time-out for a whole day!”

I ran back down the hall and checked the bed. I looked under the bed and in the closet. No Uglydoll. I went back to the kitchen and sat at the table to calm down and think. Panic scrambled my thoughts. Surely, she was hiding.

Hannah came out of the bathroom, shaking her head. “She’s not in there.” She sat in a chair next to me, watching my reaction. I stood up and grabbed her hand. There were so many places Leah could go. And oh, God, the ocean—only a block away.



Pulling Hannah, and then eventually picking her up, I ran out the front door, down the block to the beach, yelling Leah’s name the entire way. When we got to the sand, I put Hannah down and instructed her to wait by the gate.

“Do not move. Do you understand? Your feet are glued to the sand. Glued, got it? I need to find your sister.”

Hannah nodded solemnly.

I ran toward the water, scanning the beach and screaming, “Le-ah!” as loud as I could. I ran parallel to the ocean to the jetty. Looking back, I saw Hannah parked where I’d left her. I scaled the rocks and looked over the other side. “Le-ah!”

No Leah.

I had no idea what to do. I ran as far as I could while still being able to see Hannah, up and down the shore. Leah was not on the beach. Backtracking to the house, we ran through the streets, calling Leah’s name.

No Leah.

When we got back to the house, I thought to check the car. No luck. I instructed Hannah to go inside and look everywhere she could think of for Leah. I started at one end of the house; Hannah started at the other. The house was small. In fifteen minutes, we had both searched the entire house, closets and all.

No Leah.

I sat down on the porch and pulled out my cell phone. A person should not have to file a missing persons report twice in the same year. It was unreal that I had to go through it again.

I dialed 9-1-1. “I need to report a missing child.”





As it happens, the response for a missing child is vastly different than for a grown man. Within ten minutes, four police cruisers had pulled up out front. Eight policemen descended on the living room like locusts, each with a distinct responsibility. I was reliving a nightmare.



“The last time I saw her was when I put her down for her nap.”

“No, I don’t have any pictures of her. We’re on vacation.” Then, I remembered I had digital pictures on my camera card, so I gave them those.

“I was in the pool during her nap.” That explanation was received with not a few raised eyebrows and exchanged looks, which I ignored.

With a basic description of what she looked like and what she was wearing, they wasted no time in spreading out and combing the town. One of the officers instructed me to wait at the house in case she came back and call his cell phone if I found her.

I sat on the porch with Hannah, my head in my hands. After a few minutes, my cell phone rang. I answered immediately with hope flying.

“Hi, Claire,” Drew said. “I’m glad you answered. I’m driving to your house. I need to talk to you about—”

“Drew, Leah is missing!”

“What?”

“I’m at the beach. They were taking a nap, and I went to wake them up, and Leah wasn’t in her bed, and I looked all over for her, and the police said for me to—” A sob caught in my throat.

“I’m on my way. Where are you?”

“Brigantine. Please come.” I gave him the address and hung up.

Hannah sat next to me, holding my hand in silent apprehension. A little adult. I sat on the porch for two hours, which felt more like six, until I saw Drew’s car pull into the driveway.

He parked, and I ran out to his car. My knees gave out as I reached him, and he put his arms around me to hold me up. I sobbed into his collar.

Hannah came over, and Drew extended the hug to include her. “We’ll find her, Claire. She hides, right? This isn’t Greg. She isn’t gone, okay?” He pulled me away, looking into my eyes. “We’ll find her. She’s hiding somewhere. That’s all.”



I believed him because I had no choice. With Drew there, I knew we’d find her, and everything would be fine.