hated the uncertainty. Had Eden gotten off at an earlier stop to look around, and then missed getting back on the train? Maybe right now, she was on the train platform five stops back.
Hannah sent her a text:
Where R U? R stops coming up.
Just moments later, her phone buzzed.
But it wasn’t Eden.
Riley was texting her. His photo came up, the one of him in shorts and a T-shirt, standing on the deck of a boat. He was so handsome with his wavy blond hair, a tan, and that lean, athletic build. He was a sophomore at Northwestern. Several train stops back, in Evanston, Hannah had found herself smiling at the thought of that stop becoming a frequent destination.
Though she’d dreaded attending Our Lady of the Cove with her half-sister, Hannah did have a few things she looked forward to—and at the top of the list was Riley McCarren.
She hadn’t actually met him yet, but they’d been texting, video-chatting, and talking on the phone for weeks now. Hannah couldn’t help feeling that he was the one.
She touched the phone’s text icon:
What’s up? R U in Chicago yet?
Hannah worked her thumbs over the phone screen:
On the train. Delmar in 2 more stops! U were right. It’s not that far from Evanston.
Told U.
My stupid half-sister has totally disappeared. I keep thinking she might’ve gotten off at the wrong stop sometime back. I have 4 big suitcases here and don’t want to lug them all by myself. She’s got 2 B somewhere on this train.
Maybe she’s locked in one of the bathrooms. LOL.
UR a big help. When R U getting in? Can’t wait to C U.
Riley lived in Boston, and with his accent, he sounded like Mark Wahlberg on the phone. Hannah couldn’t remember if he was flying in tomorrow or Saturday morning. They’d agreed to meet this Saturday night.
Her mother had pitched a fit about her communicating and setting up a date with this guy she hadn’t even met yet. For all she knew, her mom said, some pervert could have been using a photo of a J.Crew model to lure her into his web.
Her mom was naturally cautious because of the thing that happened.
The thing that happened—that was what Hannah called the series of horrendous events that accounted for the last two miserable years. The thing that happened had made national news headlines for several days. She and Eden had become reluctant Internet stars, and they’d each garnered their share of stalkers. Though most of the whack-jobs had moved on ages ago (probably to other teenage girls in the news), a few nutcases were still out there.
But Riley wasn’t one of them. As he explained, his freshman year roommate had developed an Internet crush on her for a while—until he’d gotten a girlfriend and transferred to U of I mid-year. But last spring, the former roommate had forwarded Riley one of Hannah’s Instagrams about getting into Our Lady of the Cove—just a few Metra stops away from Northwestern. Riley couldn’t resist sending her a message and suggesting they get together when she came to the Chicago area. He’d said he thought she was “pretty cute, too.”
According to her mother, Hannah was only encouraging stalkers by posting so much stuff on social media. But really, she wasn’t about to give up the things she loved—just because of a few obsessive creeps. Besides, she took precautions. Unlike her half-sister, she didn’t talk to strangers or wander off alone for hours at a time. She watched out for herself.
Plus, if she hadn’t been posting regularly on social media, she never would have connected with Riley.
And Hannah was no fool. After a few texts back and forth, she’d insisted on some FaceTime sessions with Riley. She needed to make sure the gorgeous photo was real. She was delighted to see he was the genuine article. Making things even better was the fact that he was already a college guy. Plus he knew all about her, and he still liked her. After two years of feeling like a freak at her high school, Riley made her feel cool and desirable.
Nevertheless, her mother kept warning Hannah that she was telling this stranger way too much about herself. Maybe that was why, in the back of her mind, Hannah wondered if Riley was too good to be true.
From the three dots in the text box, it looked like Riley was writing something. It was taking him a while.
The train car doors hissed open, and Hannah glanced down, hoping to see her half-sister returning. Instead, some guy in a business suit stepped into the car. Hannah glanced back at her phone. Riley’s text finally came up:
Bad news. I’m not flying in until later this week. Family emergency. Major hassle, but it can’t B helped. Looks like I won’t C U until next weekend . . .
Hannah’s heart sank. She was crushed. She’d been looking forward to this all summer, and now she had to wait at least another week.
What if, by then, he met some other girl he liked better than her?
Of course, she couldn’t let him know how disappointed she was. She swallowed hard, typed in a sad face, and then quickly erased it.
I’ll miss U! Family emergency? Hope it’s nothing 2 serious. Is everyone OK?
There was no response, not even a wavy dot, dot, dot. She waited about twenty seconds and then texted:
U still there?
Then she waited another few moments, until he finally texted back:
I got a call here I need to take. Text U back soon!
Frowning, Hannah texted back OK. Then she clicked off.
“Shit,” she muttered, glancing out the train window. They sped past trees and phone poles. Some of the houses near the railroad tracks looked slightly neglected and sad.
The prospect of seeing Riley tomorrow was the one thing that had kept her from being totally homesick today. She wouldn’t see her parents or her brothers again for another three months. She’d never been away from them for more than a weekend—until now. She’d been so miserable at home for the last two years, and yet she’d give anything to be back there now. She particularly longed to go back to that time before the thing that happened, before Eden had come into their lives, before the murders and the headlines—back when they were so happy and didn’t know it.
Where the hell was Eden anyway?
Hannah glanced down toward the train car’s doors again. No sign of her.
Maybe if she wasn’t sitting here all alone, she wouldn’t feel so depressed. She couldn’t depend on her half-sister for anything. Ever since Eden had moved in, the two of them had been at odds. Fortunately, Hannah’s bedroom was in the basement, which had made it easier to avoid everyone—especially Eden, whose room was on the second floor. Their respect for each other’s turf was probably what kept them from killing each other.
Two weeks ago, in an email from the college, they both received the distressing news
