CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

We talk for a while about nothing in particular until my stomach growls and we head downstairs. On the way to the kitchen, I pass the living room and spot Rand watching television, a half-eaten sandwich in his hand. When he sees me, he nods. It’s funny how such a small movement can convey so much meaning. In a single gesture, he’s saying hello, asking if I’m okay and commending me for getting on with my life when others would give up.

I flash a smile – small, quick and crammed with as much meaning as his nod.

In the kitchen, I pull out the things I’ll need, barely even thinking about where everything is. In such a small amount of time, I’ve grown incredibly familiar with Rand’s house and everything in it – so much so that it almost feels like home. Almost.

But nowhere has ever felt like home. Not the house where my father currently resides, doing god-knows-what. Not the house my real mother lives in, along with the closest friend I’ve ever had. And not the houses I’ve lived in previously, scattered across the globe. The only place that’s ever felt even remotely close to a home was the farm I lived on when I was still a relatively ordinary girl. And back then, I was too young to remember anything.

With my lunch made, I move to sit down on the couch with Caden and Rand, my eyes following their gaze and landing on the television. I freeze, suddenly forgetting all about my stomach.

On the screen, film footage of Kira’s house is being displayed, a reporter’s voice relaying the supposed events of the night in the background, and her words make me feel sick.

“… In other news, a sixteen-year-old girl went missing at a house party on Monday night. Lauren Evans, the teenager at the centre of the mystery, was last seen at the house at 9:30 last night after a woman wielding a gun stormed the party. Evidence of gunshots lie in the living room but neighbours don’t report hearing anything but smashing and shouting. It’s unknown what really happened, but investigators are looking into it and have deduced that Lauren was shot, as can be seen by the blood at the scene of the crime. Witnesses who were there on the night tell of the woman in her early thirties who had stalked into the house.”

Suddenly, the screen cuts to a shot of Kira, a pained expression on her face as she relays the story to reporters. “I was just talking to Lauren when all of a sudden this lady came from nowhere and slammed her into the wall. People started screaming and I’m pretty sure I saw a knife or a gun or something and I panicked.” She looks down as tears start to escape her eyes. “I guess I thought she’d make it out okay.”

Then her face disappears and we’re faced with images of the investigators taping off the crime scene. The reporter continues. “Several others claimed to see Lauren later that night, coming out of the front door looking stunned, and it is believed that she stumbled into the woods by the side of the house. Police have sent out search teams and are scouring the state parkland as we spea–”

I switch off the television, unable to listen to another word, and we descend into silence.

“They took her,” I say, splintering the heavy atmosphere with my angry words. “They killed her and then they took her and now no one except us will ever know what really happened.”

No one has anything to say in response. The two of them just stare unseeingly, their eyes focusing on insignificant spots on the floor and wall.

The fury of the night is returning to me in tiny portions, and I feel my body becoming restless, aching for movement and action. I want to do something. I want to fix this mess I’m in and get revenge for the deaths of those I cared for. And more than anything else at this moment of time, I want to get Lauren back. I want her parents and friends to know the truth, so they aren’t haunted by all the ‘what if’s that I have come to know so well.

I go to stand. “I’m going to find her.”

“What?” Caden’s reaction frustrates me to no end.

“You heard me.”

“Melissa,” Rand says calmly, always the voice of reason, “you can’t just walk out and go looking for the people who took her. We’ve already seen that they are capable of things well-beyond our abilities. They could kill you in an instant and you wouldn’t be able to do anything to stop them. Besides, you don’t even know where they are.”

And then it hits me. Why, oh, why hadn’t I thought of this sooner?

“I do,” I say quietly, testing the words on my tongue as the realisation sinks in. And then louder: “I know where they are!”

I’m faced by a sea of frowns. “How?” Caden asks bemusedly.

“I got a vision earlier today – a vision of an office block. It showed me a man dressed in black as he entered the building. I saw him type in the key-code and speak the password and everything. My vision was showing me the way!” My voice steadily gets louder as the pieces fit together in my brain, an overwhelming happiness settling upon me. All this time, swapping back has seemed impossible, but now there’s a chance – a small chance, but it’s there nonetheless. If I can just get into that building and find whatever it is they used to swap me with Sarah, I can swap back and end this once and for all.

For the first time in a long while, I allow myself to feel hope.

Rand looks shocked. “Do you know where this building is?”

I shake my head. “But I know it was in Sydney and I think if I just went on the internet and searched some things up I could find it.”

“I’ll go get my laptop,” Rand says and walks hurriedly out of the room.

While I wait patiently for him to return, Caden says, “Are you sure it’s the place? How do you know it’s not just some random building and the vision actually just wanted you to focus on the man?”

I have to refrain from rolling my eyes. “Come on, think about it. Why would it show in such great detail how to get inside unless that’s what it was trying to show me? And anyway, sometimes I just get a feeling that I’m right about the meaning behind the vision, and this feels right.”

Caden looks sceptical. “For your sake, I hope you are right.”

Then Rand is back in the room. He sits down and boots up his laptop, typing in the password and opening up a browser before handing it over to me. I rest the chunky thing – which looks a decade old – on my lap and start searching.

I’m not sure how long it takes for me to find it, but I know it can’t have been too long when at the bottom of a page of google image results I spy a picture of an office-block that is exactly the same as the one I saw in my vision.

“Here it is,” I say as I expand the image. Caden and Rand look on over my shoulder as I click the link to the webpage it belongs to and quickly discover the address. I commit the location to memory and shut the laptop abruptly, placing it on the seat next to me.

“Let’s go,” I say, standing up, adrenaline pumping through my veins.

I get all the way to the hallway before Caden says, “Are you kidding me? We can’t go now – we know nothing about the place.”

I stop and turn around, opening my mouth to respond.

But then from beside Caden, Rand’s phone rings and my mouth sinks shut. Rand digs around in his pocket, pulling out the source of the noise and raising it to his ear.

“Hello?”

From where I’m standing, I can faintly hear the person on the other end of the line, and even though I can’t make out words, there’s no denying the urgency in their voice. Rand’s face falls.

“We’ll be right over,” he says, and then he hangs up.

“What is it?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “We need to leave. Now.”

Rand’s dashing around, finding and pocketing his keys and wallet. He walks right past me towards the door and Caden goes after him, looking worried. I have no option but to follow the two, and I shut the front door behind me as I exit the house.

“Where are we going?” I ask as I walk down the short pathway to the street. Rand is already at his car, yanking the door open.

“Katherine’s place,” he says. I frown but don’t say anything further as I get into the back of the car after Caden.  

We drive off, and after a minute I ask, “What’s happened?” There’s no answer. “Why won’t you tell me what’s going on?”

“Because I don’t know,” Rand says, frustrated. “Sarah’s – I mean your – mother just said to come to her place immediately. That was it.”

I lean back in my seat, but not before catching sight of Caden’s pale face out of the corner of my eye. “You know something,” I say.

He shakes his head. “I’m just worried about why she’d use the word immediately. I know it can’t be good.”

My stomach flips, fear and nervousness swarming me at once.

The ride to my real mother’s place doesn’t take long, especially since Rand drives over the speed limit the entire way. I find that I can’t keep still, rubbing my hands on my pants in response to my jittery nerves and as a way of wiping off the sweat forming on my palms. Something feels very, very wrong.

When we stop out the front of Sarah’s house, I’m the first one out of the car, and I dash up to the door with Caden and Rand at my heels. I knock firmly three times, and as my fist nears wood for the fourth time, the door swings inwards, revealing a red-face version of my mother. She looks part-flustered and part like she’s been crying – or getting close to it.

“Come in,” she says, ushering us inside.

Only after she’s shut the door behind us do I speak. “What’s happened?”

She shakes her head and gesture’s for us to follow her as she leads us further into the house. “She started getting bad this morning but I didn’t think it would progress this quickly,” she says.

“She?” I ask. But I already know the answer to my question and my heart sinks. “What’s wrong with Sarah?”

We finally enter the living room and my mother steps aside to reveal Sarah, lying unconscious on the couch. Her skin is three shades paler than usual and a line of sweat has broken out on her forehead despite the constant shivering. “She’s sick.”

“Sick?” I parrot, frowning even though a part of me already understands the truth.

“Dying, Melissa,” Rand says from over my shoulder. I turn to face him. “She’s dying.”