Page 78 of Hometown Girl

“I’m here to restore an old farm,” he said.

“Oh, honey,” she whispered, taking a step back, obviously aware of his pain.

“I have to go.” He started down the stairs. “I’ll see you later.”

She didn’t respond, and he didn’t look up at the window as he walked through the yard toward the farmhouse. Instead, he wrestled with the pain that jabbed at the back of his mind, begging for his attention.

As he approached the house, the windows on the second level caught his attention. For three weeks now, he’d slept on the couch in the living room, memories flooding his mind. But he’d never stepped foot on the second floor.

He hadn’t been ready for what he might find up there.

Remnants of Jess.

Their second-to-last summer at Fairwind. He’d been nine and complained the entire drive. He hadn’t wanted to spend a whole month on a stupid farm with no one to play with but some dumb girl.

But Jess had surprised him. She wasn’t like the girls he knew back home. She’d grown fearless. She’d jump into the creek fully clothed if it meant catching a frog. She’d pick up garter snakes by their heads and fling them out into the cornfield. She’d ride the horses and complain when her dad wouldn’t let her go faster.

He’d been so intrigued by her. Maybe even smitten, as much as a nine-year-old could be.

They’d become friends that summer. Good friends. And the next year, he couldn’t wait to get back to the farm. They fell back into their comfortable friendship almost immediately, but only a few short weeks later, Fairwind was filled with police officers and search and rescue teams. And people ordering him to remember.

“You must’ve seen something out there, son,” one cop had said. “Nobody can hurt you now. We need you to be brave and tell us what you saw.”

He’d searched his mind for something—anything—that would help them find Jess. His own parents begged him to remember something. A sound. A smell. A face. But he came up empty.

His silence had made them think he was traumatized or hiding something. Their constant prodding had made him question himself. So here he was, trying to do what he should’ve done all those years ago. Trying to remember. He awoke in the middle of every night disoriented and drenched in sweat, having relived another nightmare that refused to tell the whole story.

Drew moved quickly through the kitchen and living room, straight to the stairs before he lost his nerve. Night had fallen, and he knew he couldn’t wake up panicked one more time.

Desperation propelled him up the stairs, light from the moon filtering in from the window in the hallway above him. When he reached the top, he stopped and drew in a deep breath.

He noticed the door to Jess’s bedroom was partially open, and a picture formed in his mind. On the rainy days, they’d sprawl out on her floor looking at her bug collection. She’d speak with such excitement, showing him the new bugs she’d found down by the creek. Jess had found each one in her encyclopedia, labeling them one at a time.

He squirmed over the assortment of dead insects, but Jess was downright thrilled by them. She loved learning new things. She’d always had such a sense of wonder about her. Some people probably thought she was weird, but Drew liked her for it.

He moved in silence past her room, careful not to glance inside. What if it looked exactly the same? Or worse, what if the Pendergasts had changed everything—wiped away every shred of evidence she’d ever existed?

He wasn’t ready to find out.

Instead, he moved into the master bedroom and flipped on the light. It looked just as he’d remembered it. The only time he’d been in here was during a rainy-day game of hide-and-seek. He’d found Jess underneath the sleigh bed, which had felt so monstrous when he was little.

“Found you!” He’d tugged at her foot underneath the bed frame.

“Only because I didn’t hide in my best spot.” She scooted out from her hiding place and sat cross-legged in front of him.

“Where’s your best spot?”

“It’s a secret,” she whispered.

“Show me.”

She got up and checked the hallway, he assumed for their parents. When the coast was clear, she motioned for him to follow her.

He did as he was told, but when she led him to her parents’ walk-in closet, he let out a groan. “A closet isn’t a great hiding place.”

She pushed the clothes out of the way and revealed a small door hidden at the back of the closet.

“Whoa.”

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