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permanent marker on their kitchen table—she hadn’t known the ink would bleed through the paper. She remembered the day Ellen disappeared because she and Ellen had had a skipping race to school that morning. Ellen had won, and Junie said, “I’ll beat you tomorrow.” The next day came, and Ellen was gone.
    Policemen had come to their door and asked her a lot of questions about Ellen’s friends at school and if she knew about any adults or children that might not like Ellen. Junie didn’t know anyone who didn’t like Ellen. They asked her if she knew why Ellen would want to run away, and Junie remembered thinking, She didn’t want to run away.
    Junie didn’t go to school on Wednesday. Her mother kept her home. She kept Junie close, so close that Junie felt smothered. She couldn’t go to the bathroom without her mother jumping up to follow her.
    Later that afternoon, her mother explained to her that the police thought someone had taken Ellen and that they didn’t know when, or if, she would return. She said that Junie would be told when Ellen came back, and until then, it wouldn’t be a good idea to visit Ellen’s house. The next morning, Junie’s new routine was born. Her mother took her to school and picked her up after school.  Junie spent much of her time indoors, staring out the window at Ellen’s house, waiting for her to magically appear.
    She had watched as Peter meticulously planted more roses in their already overflowing garden. Roses were Ellen’s favorite flower. When she was younger, Junie liked roses. She likened them to the fun she and Ellen had enjoyed around the gardens. That changed after Ellen’s disappearance. Junie abhorred them. She watched Brian skulk around the yard, punching himself in the leg, grabbing the sides of his head like an injured animal that couldn’t pull away from the fractured limb. Six months later she watched Susan Olson carry suitcases out to her car. She never came back. Eventually they all fell into the pattern of their new lives—lives without Ellen.
    Junie pulled her mind back to the present as they climbed the back porch steps. It seemed she was tucking away a lot of emotions lately, and she wondered if an ache could hurt so badly that it could make one’s own mind play tricks on them.

Chapter Five
    The house was quiet. Junie filled a glass of water for Sarah and one for herself. Sarah waited for Junie to pick up her glass and drink before she moved to do the same. Sarah waited to set her glass down until her mother had done so first. Sarah’s idiosyncrasies had appeared slowly over time, until one day they defined who she was. Junie had come to expect these aping actions, while Brian had fought them. Brian . Junie withdrew her cell phone from her pocket and dialed his number.
    “Junie, I’m heading into a meeting. I’ll call you later. Is everything okay?”
    Junie bit her lip, then sighed. She fought to keep her voice calm. “Yeah, I just wanted to talk to you about something.”
    “Can it wait, just till this afternoon?”
    Sure. I’ll just freak out all day over seeing my dead friend—your dead sister. “Yeah, sure. Will you still make it tonight?”
    “Yes, of course. Leaving right after this. Call you later.”
    For a brief moment, Junie pictured a beautiful stranger waiting for him, beckoning him. Her hand dropped to her slightly thickened waist, where over the last five months, five unwanted pounds had settled. She furrowed her brow, wondering where such a ludicrous thought came from.

    Junie found Ruth sitting on the chair in the living room that Junie’s father had deemed “Mom’s reading chair.” Junie remembered finding her mother in that chair, paperback in hand, each day when she’d arrived home after school, and she’d end the night on the same cozy perch. The dark blue velour was worn and frayed, but Ruth would have no part of replacing the material. Next to her sat her father’s empty recliner.
    “Can I get you something,