Page 64 - My FlipBook

L IS A J. L A W R E N C E

Greta waited until they had stepped inside, not wanting
to say the words in the wide open. “We could check the app
again, you know. Maybe they’re closer to home now.”
Ash kicked off his snowy shoes. “I told you. I don’t have
a father anymore, and I never had a stepmother.” His words
came out tight, clipped. “But I can’t stop you from looking.” He
ducked through the storage-room door, still wearing his coat,
and closed it behind him. His face had twitched when Greta

suggested he move into Roger and Patty’s room. She didn’t
blame him. She could still smell the candle and matches.
Greta lit the oven and grabbed a cheese slice from the
fridge to prove to herself that she wasn’t in a hurry. Then she
settled at the kitchen table, the stick back in her throat again.
They could be in Whitecourt or the Northwest Territories or
even somewhere in the city. What would she do if the app ADVANCE READING COPY

showed her Edmonton? Hide in a bush near their hotel and
try to catch Roger on his own?
The phone’s battery showed 20 percent. Greta didn’t tell
Ash she’d checked for texts and missed calls every half hour
since they got up that morning. She opened the app and held
her breath, waiting for the results.
Nothing. Roger must have deleted it. Actually, Patty
would’ve been the one to find and delete it. She was the
more tech-savvy one and also the more suspicious one. That

last tie to her father snipped clean. Ash was right—just the
two of them now. A grim relief, the clarity of it.
While Ash slept, pouted—whatever he did in the storage
room—Greta got to work. Half an hour later, she knocked

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