Page 9 of Silent Echo

She studied the page with the medical and pathological information. It had a diagram of the bus, and a legend at the bottom explained the designation next to each seat with the injury level. They were all F for fatal, with the exception of five seats—the ones of the bodies that were never found. The bus driver’s seat was also empty. She knew that the bus was filled because a friend of Sebastion’s turned his permission slip in too late, and there was no room left on the bus. She skimmed through the information on the bus driver’s background as well as the description of the bus. It was all becoming too much for her. She flipped the pages until she reached the conclusion page. She already knew some of it because the driver was determined not to be at fault. Parents had wanted to sue the school, but the blame lay squarely on the driver of the truck that had hit them, and that driver had also perished. She leaned back in her chair and sighed. She needed to look over the list of names of the bodies that had been recovered. At the time, the only thing she’d cared about was that Sebastion’s body hadn’t been found.

She retrieved her file on the accident and pulled out the police report. Looking over the names, she realized that Sebastion’s teacher, Penelope, wasn’t listed as one of the bodies on the bus either. That seemed strange. She couldn’t imagine that Penelope would have left any of the children. Aside from the bus driver, she was the only adult not accounted for. Charlotte could understand the bus driver, he was probably at the door trying to get the children out, but a teacher would be one of the last off the bus. And Penelope always struck Charlotte as a good teacher. There were times that she almost resented how close she was to Sebastion. Times the teacher would try to give Charlotte advice on ways to coax him out of a sullen mood or suggestions about what kinds of shows he might enjoy, as if she knew Charlotte’s son better than Charlotte did.

Something was niggling at her. What was it? Something about Penelope. She went into her office and logged in to her mobile carrier. Navigating to last November’s bill, she pulled up the phone log for that day. There it was. At the time, it hadn’t registered with the shock of the accident. Before the missed calls from the school, which had come at 12:30 p.m., there was a missed call from Penelope’s cell phone at 10:25 a.m. Why had Penelope called her? She navigated to the details for Eli’s phone and saw that he also had a call from Penelope, but that call had lasted eleven seconds. Had he spoken to her? And if so, why hadn’t he mentioned it? Penelope called thembeforethe bus crashed, and around the same time they were at McDonald’s. It had to have had something to do with Sebastion. Had he gotten lost in the crowd? That could be why they were there for so long. But surely, they wouldn’t have left without finding him. His stomachache—maybe it had gotten worse. What if he’d gotten really sick, and the bus had dropped him and Penelope off at a hospital or medical center? Now she wondered if the reason their bodies were never found was because they weren’t on the bus when it crashed! A surge of adrenaline rushed through her. That had to be the answer. But where were they now?

CHAPTER NINE

Charlotte had been on the phone all afternoon. First to check each of the area’s urgent care facilities and local hospitals to see if anyone matching Sebastion’s description had come in that day. His name wasn’t on any of their computers, and no one remembered seeing him. She also had them check under Penelope’s name, but nothing. Next, she’d called the school to find out who Penelope’s next of kin was, but they said that would violate their privacy policy. She opened her laptop to the memorial page the school had set up after the tragedy. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw Sebastion’s picture, and a sob escaped her. Taking a deep breath, she scrolled down to the comments made by family members and friends. There were hundreds of messages, and it was tough going, but she had to see if anyone had left a message about Penelope Watson. An hour later, she finally found something.

To my wonderful sister, I’ll carry you in my heart forever. Nora

She did a browser search for Nora Watson, but there were too many. She narrowed it down to Maryland and began meticulously looking at each one. Penelope had been in her twenties, so her sister would likely be close to her age. After another hour, no further ahead, she got up and made herself a cup of tea. It was like looking for a needle in a haystack. Social media might yield something. She returned to her office and went to Facebook to see if Penelope had a page. No luck. Then she searched Nora Watson and began to sort through theprofiles. None of them seemed right. Frustrated, she glanced at her watch—almost seven. Harper would be home from her soccer game soon. She was surprised that Eli wasn’t home yet. She picked up her cell phone and realized it was in silent mode. He had texted a while ago.

Last minute change of plans with a client. Taking them to dinner. Don’t wait up.

Working late? She wondered again if something was going on with him and Madison. She would bring it up to her therapist. She was tempted to keep going with her internet sleuthing, but she knew Harper would be starving when she came in, and Charlotte suddenly felt guilty that she hadn’t prepared anything for dinner. She went into the kitchen, opened the freezer, and pulled out a pizza. That would have to do.

Moments later, the front door opened, and Harper’s footsteps echoed from the hallway.

“Mom, we won!”

She burst into the kitchen, all smiles, and Charlotte walked over to give her a hug. “Congrats, honey! That’s great.”

“I scored the winning goal. Everyone was cheering. I wish it had been a home game so you could have been there.”

“Me too.” The truth was that Charlotte could have chosen to drive the ninety minutes to the game; some of the other parents did, but she couldn’t focus on anything other than whether her son was alive. At Eli’s insistence, she hadn’t told Harper anything, although she was bursting to. She could use an ally, but Eli was right; Harper needed to be kept in the dark until she had some answers. It wasn’t fair to get her hopes up.

“I put a pepperoni pizza in for you,” Charlotte told her.

“Cool. I’m gonna shower. Wanna watch an episode ofGrey’swith me?”

What she really wanted was to keep going with her search for Penelope’s sister, but she nodded. “Love to.”

“’Kay. I’ll be back in a flash.”

Charlotte pulled the pizza from the oven and cut it, then grabbed plates and sodas. Harper was back, a towel around her neck, her hair still wet from the shower, wearing her pajamas. Charlotte felt a tug in her heart. Harper was still so young, yet she’d grown so much over the past year. A deep feeling of regret washed over her, thinking about how much of her daughter’s life she’d missed while she was buried in grief. No more. No matter what, she had to keep a balance. She would leave no stone unturned in investigating what she now believed was her son’s disappearance rather than his death. But she had to make sure that she didn’t neglect Harper in doing so. She would spend her days searching for answers, but her evenings would be reserved for her daughter.What about your husband, a little voice asked. She didn’t have an answer.

CHAPTER TEN

The following day, Charlotte was back at it, methodically going through the profile of every Nora Watson on Facebook. Some profiles had more public information available than others, and she narrowed it down to three women who might be related to Penelope. If only she had access to all their photos, she could see if there were any older ones of Penelope. Maybe Nora was married and her profile was under her married name, which Charlotte didn’t have. She debated sending them all friend requests then thought better of it. Even if she found Penelope’s sister, who knew if she could be trusted?

Next, she went to search the death records in Maryland to see if Penelope was listed. Eli and she had had to request a death certificate for the insurance company, and one was provided pretty quickly after the investigation when it became clear that there were no survivors. Navigating to the vital records website, she initiated a search for Penelope Watson’s death certificate. It took her to an online order link. She typed in the information, but when she reached the end, she found that only the decedent’s mother, father, spouse, or child could order a copy.

She picked up her phone and called the school. “Hi, Misty. It’s Charlotte Fleming. How are you?”

“Oh, hi, Charlotte. It’s nice to hear your voice. What can I do for you?”

Charlotte had always liked Misty. She often brought Misty coffee in the morning and spent extra time chatting with her. She was the first line of defense at the office, and Charlotteknew many of the parents could be difficult and downright rude at times. Misty handled the encounters gracefully, but Charlotte could see it took a toll at times. “I need some information.”

“What is it?”

“I have a friend who wants to apply to teach at the school. I told her what a wonderful place it is. But she’s getting out of a difficult marriage and needs a job with good benefits. Do you mind giving me an overview of the benefits package?”

“Well, we have a 401K plan, good health insurance, and life in- surance.”

“That’s great. Do you know who the life insurance is through? Her husband works for one of the insurance companies, and let’s just say she wants to make sure he can’t find her.”

“Oh, my. I see. Hold on, let me take a look. Um, here it is. Provident Casualty.”

---