Where I Left Her

by Amber Garza

  2

  EIGHT WEEKS

  BEFORE DROP-OFF

  THE HIGH SCHOOL parking lot was packed. Whitney followed the slow line of cars, weaving through rows of vehicles and students walking in large groups. She tapped her fingers against the steering wheel with impatience. The million things she still needed to get done filled her mind. But Whitney was grateful to be able to pick Amelia up this afternoon. Lately, she’d been so busy with work she rarely was able to. She felt bad about how many days Amelia had to hitch a ride with a friend or take the bus.

  Rounding the corner near the football field, Amelia’s group of friends stood in a huddle on the grass, heads bent together, a kaleidoscope of colored hair. Becca was talking animatedly, her hands moving in sync with her lips. Amelia wasn’t in the circle. When she appeared, walking out from behind a nearby building, Whitney pulled her car over to the pickup area. As Amelia passed by her friends, they glanced over but didn’t say anything. She kept her head down, eyes averted. Becca shot her a glare before returning her attention back to the other girls.

  Could they be shunning her?

  Amelia swung the passenger door open and plunked down with a loud sigh. She tossed her backpack down by her feet.

  “What’s going on with you and Becca?” Whitney asked, pulling away from the pickup area and joining the slow line again.

  Amelia shrugged, staring down at her hands. Her nails were painted black, chipped at the edges. Some of the skin was torn and red. “Nothing.”

  “It didn’t look like nothing.”

  “I guess we’re just not really hanging out that much anymore.”

  “Why? Did you get in a fight or something?”

  “I don’t know.” She groaned, sinking lower in her seat.

  “How can you not know? Haven’t you talked to her at all?”

  “God, Mom, why can’t you just let it go? It’s not that big a deal.”

  Amelia and Becca had been BFFs since the beginning of junior high. Becca practically lived at their house; she had become part of their family. Whitney had never known the girls to ignore each other.

  Whitney was at a loss. Amelia had always been the happiest kid. Whitney joked that she came out smiling and talking. It never took much to get her to smile and laugh as an infant. Just one look could get her going. She’d started talking before she was even a year old, and she never stopped. When she was in elementary school, she would talk constantly from the time Whitney picked her up until she went to bed. Some days it gave Whitney a headache. Every once in a while, Whitney couldn’t take it and she’d make her play the “quiet game” just to give her ears a rest.

  But the last couple of months she’d changed into this quiet, sullen, angry girl.

  Whitney had tried to have conversations with Amelia about it, but that only pushed her further away. It was like she had no idea how to communicate with her own child anymore. She’d asked her friend Natalie about this the other day, but she assured Whitney it was normal. Natalie had two kids—a boy and a girl. They were both adults now, and she had great relationships with them. She encouraged Whitney to take a lot of deep breaths during this time.

  At this rate, Whitney was breathing so deeply she might hyperventilate.

  It will get better, she’d been saying over and over in her head. A silent mantra. Some days it was the only thing that got her through.

  But now Whitney wasn’t so sure it would get better. It was one thing for Amelia to be weird at home. All kids went through that phase where they pushed their parents away in an effort to find their own identities. God knows, she’d done that with her own parents. But nobody had said anything about pushing best friends away too.

  “Can my friend Lauren spend the night Friday?”

  “Lauren?” Whitney repeated, grateful for any foray into conversation. “I don’t think I’ve met her before.”

  “Yeah, she’s a new friend.”

  A new friend? Since when did Amelia need new friends? She already had a friend group. And Whitney had put in all the necessary time and effort to feel comfortable with that friend group, getting to know all the kids and parents. Becca’s mom she knew especially well. Whitney had taken great comfort in that over the years. And since Amelia was a junior, she’d assumed her friend group would stay intact until graduation. Her mind spun with all the things she had to do now. Get to know the new friend’s parents. Look her up on social media. She could already feel the tiredness settling into her bones, thinking of the late nights she’d spend worrying about this new friend. If she was a good influence. If she was safe.

  “Well, that’s nice,” she said, careful to keep her tone calm. “Is she new to the school? The area?”

  Amelia’s eyebrows rose, and Whitney knew then that she’d been too eager. Asked too many questions.

  “Sure,” Amelia said. It wasn’t an answer.

  “Okay. I guess as long as you clean up your room, she can come over.” Whitney kept her voice nonchalant, masking the discomfort she felt.

  “Thanks, Mom.” Amelia smiled, before shoving her earbuds into her ears and staring out the window.

  It wasn’t much, but it was something. And Whitney would take anything she could get.

  The tightness in her chest loosened a little. The girl she’d raised, the one with the sweet smile and a million words on her tongue, was in there. This was merely a phase. It wouldn’t last forever. As Whitney drove, her shoulders relaxed, and she bobbed her head to the soft jazz that floated through the speakers. It clearly wasn’t as loud as Amelia’s pop music. Whitney could hear it almost as well as her own. Well enough to catch Ariana Grande’s distinct tone.

  At the stoplight, Amelia stared out the window. Whitney heard a little ping interrupt the music blasting through her earbuds and Amelia’s head shot downward. Following her gaze, Whitney read the notification.

  Phil Lopez sent you a Snapchat.

  Amelia smothered the phone with her hand when she noticed Whitney looking. The traffic light changed. Before releasing her foot off the brake, Whitney gently bumped her daughter’s knee with her hand. Craning her neck, Amelia popped out one earbud.

  The music still played, a harsh muffled beat as it dangled off her shoulder.

  “Who’s Phil?”

  “No one.”

  “No one, huh? He must be someone if he’s snapchatting you.”

  A car honked behind them.

  “God, Mom, go.”

  “Not until you answer me.”

  Another honk.

  Amelia glanced desperately over her shoulder. “Oh, my God, Mom, you’re so annoying. He’s just a guy in one of my classes. He was asking about an assignment.” She shoved the earbud back in.

  Amelia had a tell. She bit the inside of her mouth when she lied.

  She was doing it now.

  But a third honk forced Whitney’s foot off the brake. Her car moved forward while her mind spun with questions. Who was Phil? Amelia had never mentioned him. Actually, she never mentioned any boys. Probably because she wasn’t allowed to date until she was sixteen.

  Which was happening in a month...

  Whitney’s stomach twisted.

  She planned to press Amelia on it when they got to the apartment, but Amelia hopped out the minute the car was parked, before Whitney even had time to shut off the car. Then she walked swiftly up the stairs, earbuds locked in place. Whitney did her best to keep up but by the time she made it inside, Amelia was in her bedroom with the door shut.

  A bird chirped from inside Whitney’s pocket. She yanked out her phone.

  Natalie: Are the photos of the new line ready?

  Crap. She should have had them done by now. Nat’s Fancy Finds was an online boutique that Natalie started about five years ago. At first, she only sold jewelry and accessories. Back then, Whitney was working hard to get her photography b
usiness up and running. Her degree had been in business, but she didn’t have a lot of real-world experience. While she and Dan were married, she’d stayed home with Amelia. That’s when she’d taken up photography. It started as a way to capture pretty pictures of her daughter but it became apparent early on that she had a talent for it.

  When she and Dan split up, Whitney took a part-time administrative job, which worked out perfectly since she was off right around the time Amelia got out of school. Money was tight, and she worried that even if she snagged a full-time job, she wouldn’t be able to afford daycare. Dan probably would’ve helped pay for it, but she hated relying on him for everything. Hated giving him the ammunition. Something to lord over her. When Natalie first started her business, she hired Whitney to take some photos for her website.

  They quickly became friends, and shortly after, when Natalie added clothing to her inventory, she brought Whitney on as a full-time marketing manager for the business. Whitney was able to work flexible hours, mostly from home, or occasionally at the warehouse where she was able to bring Amelia if need be.

  Last week, Whitney had done a photoshoot of their new spring line. Some of those photos had been edited, but not all of them. Heading over to her desk in the corner of the family room, Whitney sank down onto the seat, the padding sighing beneath her. After logging on to the computer, she texted Natalie back: I’ll have them to you soon.

  For the next hour, she worked intently, only glancing up when she heard the click of Amelia’s door opening. The sun had started to go down outside. The sky was a deep blue, almost purple with flecks of gold glittering the edges. Whitney rubbed her blurry, tired eyes.

  “What’s for dinner?” Amelia asked, stepping into the room. She was wearing a pair of leggings, a long T-shirt and fuzzy socks. Her hair was pulled up into a messy bun at the top of her head and her face had been scrubbed clean. The smell of her peppermint lotion was strong, even from across the room.

  “I don’t know.” Squinting, Whitney glanced at the time on the bottom of the computer screen. “It’s getting late. You wanna just grab takeout? We can order pizza or call that Chinese place you like.”

  Leaning her shoulder against the wall, Amelia frowned, her nose wrinkling. “Nah, I’m trying to eat healthy, remember? I’ll probably just make a salad or something.”

  The last thing Amelia needed to worry about was her weight. She was already skinny. Too skinny, in Whitney’s opinion, but try telling her that. She was adamant about losing a few pounds.

  “Okay, well, I can help you.” Whitney swiveled in her chair, planting her feet on the carpet.

  “It’s okay. I got it.” Amelia waved away the suggestion, her gaze sliding past her mom’s shoulder. “That’s a good shot.” Her head bobbed toward the picture open on Whitney’s screen of a model wearing a long maxidress and a distressed jean jacket. “She’s really pretty.”

  Whitney’s stomach tightened as she took in the stick-thin model on the screen. Impossibly smooth skin, blond shiny hair, not one imperfection thanks to Whitney’s photo-editing skills. Whitney always blamed social media for her daughter’s distorted self-image, but she guessed her job sometimes contributed to it. “Not as pretty as you.” Whitney smiled.

  Whitney’s compliment was rewarded by a dramatic rolling of the eyes before Amelia headed into the kitchen.

  Whitney dragged the edited photos into her shared Dropbox with Natalie and then shot her a text alerting her to their arrival. As expected, Natalie immediately sent back a thank-you.

  In the kitchen, Amelia loudly pulled things out of the fridge. It reminded Whitney of the nights she was angry with Dan when they were married. She’d slam things around, making as much noise as possible, so he’d know how upset she was.

  But that wasn’t what Amelia was doing right now. She was wearing her earbuds again, so she had no idea how loud she was being.

  Whitney went into the kitchen, pulled out the cutting board and a knife. She snatched up a cucumber.

  Amelia’s head snapped up, and she yanked out her earbuds. “I said I got it. You can keep working.”

  “I’m done.” Whitney brought the knife down, slicing the cucumber into little rings.

  Amelia nodded, closed the fridge and then ducked down, dipping into the lower cabinet for a large salad bowl. As she tossed the lettuce into it, Whitney continued chopping the vegetables, glad their partnership in the kitchen was still intact. They worked well together. Always had.

  It had been the two of them for many years.

  “Is your friend coming home with you after school on Friday?” Whitney asked, palming a tomato. When the knife hit it, juice squirted out, landing on her cheek.

  Amelia grinned. Whitney did, too, as she wiped it off with her finger.

  “No, I think she’ll just come over later in the afternoon,” Amelia replied.

  “Okay, good. Is her mom bringing her over?” Whitney raised her brows. Amelia always accused her of being the most overprotective mother on the planet. Anytime another mom behaved the same way, Whitney made sure to point it out. Becca’s often did. That was one of the main reasons Whitney liked the girls hanging out.

  “No. Lauren’s driving herself.”

  Whitney’s hand froze, the knife suspended over the tomato. “How old is she?”

  “Seventeen.”

  “Seventeen, huh?”

  “You say it like it’s so old.”

  “It’s older than you.”

  “Barely. I’m sixteen.”

  “You’re not sixteen yet.” Whitney nudged her in the side in a teasing way.

  But Amelia didn’t laugh. Instead, she moved out of reach. “I will be soon.”

  “I know.” Whitney tossed the chopped veggies into the bowl and then went to the sink to wash her hands.

  Sixteen already. It seemed unfathomable.

  The baby wrapped in Whitney’s arms, a blanket woven tightly around her tiny body, as she hurried down the hallway, her socked feet slipping on the linoleum.

  Glancing up from the sink Whitney saw Amelia’s blurry reflection floating in the glass window. For so many years, she had known her daughter better than anyone. Saw her with so much clarity. But lately, she’d been like this reflection—muddled, mysterious, out of reach. Whitney knew it was the natural order of things. Her daughter was getting older. Asserting her independence.

  But in Whitney’s heart, Amelia would always be her baby.

  It was still Whitney’s job to keep her safe.

  3

  SATURDAY, NOON

  NINETEEN HOURS

  AFTER DROP-OFF

  “MA’AM, ARE YOU OKAY?” The man’s voice was far away, echoey, like he was speaking from the other end of a tunnel.

  Whitney’s vision blurred at the edges, her knees softening. The woman approached, standing at the edge of the doorway, frowning. Her paper-thin skin gathered around her eyes like fabric being pinched between two fingers.

  She was at the wrong house again. She’d been sucked into the suburban vortex and gotten lost. There was no other explanation.

  “I’m so sorry to bother you again,” Whitney said, her face flushing. “I guess...I just got turned around...or something.”

  “Easy to do around here,” the man said, and Whitney was grateful for his understanding.

  After throwing them one last apologetic half smile, she went back to her car and hopped inside. In the rearview mirror, she spotted the groceries. On the seat next to her sat the gummy worms, melting against the plastic wrapper. The couple remained in the doorway, watching Whitney with wary expressions. After sending Amelia another text, she threw the couple a wave and then turned on the car.

  They hadn’t left the doorway. Probably afraid she’d knock again.

  After putting the car into Drive, she stepped on the gas. At the main street, she went right, but this time she pa
ssed the first street and eased into the second one.

  Again, all the houses looked similar but none with roses lining the yard. Her palms were slick. She wiped them alternately on the thigh of her jeans.

  She headed down to the next street. No roses there either.

  * * *

  She was certain they hadn’t gone any farther than this yesterday. Making a U-turn, she headed back to the original street. Reaching over to the passenger seat where her phone sat faceup, she touched the screen. No text from Amelia.

  The rule had always been that Amelia had to respond to her within the hour.

  Whitney had been making an exception for her earlier because she thought she’d been sleeping. But now it was after noon.

  She pulled over and scooped up her phone. Clicking into the Find My Friends app, Whitney was surprised she hadn’t thought of it sooner. Tracking Amelia was something she did often. She couldn’t help it; it always made her feel better seeing Amelia was safe at school, at Becca’s, at home when Whitney wasn’t. Whitney’s chest expanded.

  But the relief didn’t last long.

  Amelia’s phone wasn’t showing up. Her location had been turned off.

  Whitney’s body went cold.

  With a trembling hand, she clicked on Amelia’s name in her contacts, then held the phone to her ear. It only rang once before going to voice mail.

  “Amelia, I don’t know what’s going on, but call me back right away. I’m getting worried,” she blurted out in a rush of words after the beep.

  As she lowered the phone she envisioned dropping Amelia off yesterday, the way she and Lauren waved at her from the doorway of that home. The one the elderly couple lived in. But it couldn’t be the same house, right? It didn’t make any sense.

  The door open. Crib empty. Blanket gone.

  A dark figure in the doorway.

  “Where is she? My baby, she’s gone.”

  She was startled by the phone ringing in her hand. Natalie’s face popped up on the screen.

  “Nat?” Whitney answered. “Have you heard from Amelia?”