Page 18 of Silent Bones
Noah jotted the name into his notebook slowly. Calder. The name was familiar. He didn’t press on it yet, just underlined it once.
“Does she live here in town?” McKenzie asked.
“Her father’s with the DEC. But they keep to themselves,” Mr. Strudwell said. “Good people, just… quiet.”
McKenzie leaned back slightly, letting that sit.
“Did Stephen ever have trouble with any of the others?” Noah asked. “Anything that was bothering him?”
“Not that we know of,” Mr. Strudwell replied. “But I’d be lying if I said we always knew everything. Stephen kept more to himself lately. He was still friendly, still part of the group, but just a little more… distant.”
“Withdrawn?” Noah offered.
The father nodded. “Yeah. Especially after he lost his job at the rec center. That hit him harder than he let on.”
“Was he on meds, angry, did he ever make comments about the group?”
“No. Of course not. What are you suggesting, that he was depressed? That he was responsible for their deaths?”
“No. We’re just covering all bases.”
Mrs. Strudwell stood up slowly, brushing invisible lint from her blouse. “Wait here.”
She left the room and returned a moment later with a photograph. “This photo was taken last fall. A weekend camping trip out at Little Pine Lake.”
She handed it to Noah. Six teens stood clustered around a picnic table, plastic cups in hand, a cooler in the background.
Noah accepted it gently. “Thank you.”
“You can take it if it helps,” she said. “Just… bring it back, please.”
“I will.” His eyes scanned the faces again, cataloguing them with a quiet ache. They were just kids. He turned to go, then stopped. Stephen looked more withdrawn than the others, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. A small thing, but in light ofeverything, it stood out. He tucked the photo into his folder and nodded to McKenzie. “We’ll be in touch,” he said.
Mr. Strudwell rose from her seat. “If you find Stephen… please just, just let us know first. Before anyone else hears it from the news.”
“Of course,” Noah said.
They stepped into the hallway. Behind them, the TV’s volume rose faintly, another panel of experts debating causes, speculating about animal attacks, hinting at drugs or cults.
But here, in this house, it was just absence. And a lingering question, why wasn’t Avery Calder there?
The front door closed gently behind them with a final click. Noah and McKenzie stepped off the porch and back into the warmth of early afternoon, the driveway shimmering with sun off the pavement.
Neither spoke until they reached the car.
McKenzie broke first. “You think the Calder girl not going means something?”
Noah opened the passenger door but didn’t get in yet. “I think everything means something until it doesn’t.”
They got in. McKenzie turned the engine, and the AC kicked in with a low whine. Noah loosened his collar slightly, eyes fixed out the window. He could still see the look on Mrs. Strudwell’s face, the way her hands trembled even as she tried to keep her voice steady. And Mr. Strudwell, stiff as a statue, like fear had turned his spine to iron. They weren’t new to sorrow. But this was the kind that hollowed a person out.
The car pulled away from the curb.
Noah sat quiet, the file in his lap, thumb pressed against the corner of the group photo.
That was the story everyone told themselves, just kids, wrong place, wrong time. But that wasn’t it. They were conflicts, fractures. Jesse and Stephen had argued. Avery had pulled out.
They were already splintering before they stepped into those woods.
