Ghost Time

want to take a chance of piecing it together. I was just so stunned, you know, because all day long, I thought I was going to sit with the twins, ask them more questions on the way home, but they weren’t on the bus, after school, and I didn’t even think of it until I got off the bus.
    When I got home, I walked over to their house, across the street, and they weren’t playing outside. Didn’t look like anyone was home, either. No lights on, no sound, no car in the driveway. So the next morning, I got up early and walked over, thinking I’d see them, at least. I don’t know why, but I just needed to see them, but no one was home. At seven thirty in the morning, too. They were gone. Finally, after school, I walked straight over to their house, instead of going home. They weren’t on the bus, and there was no one home. I walked right up to the door, listened. Then I walked around back, looked inside. No one there.
    I couldn’t deal with going home, either, so I decided to walk to Silver Top, and I called Knox before going inside. What’s going on? he said. Will you call the elementary school for me? I said.Why? It’s about the twins, Lucy and Lucas Garner. I haven’t seen them in a few days, and no one’s at their house, and I want to be sure they’re all right. Will you call now, before the office closes? All right, hang on, Knox said, reaching for a pen. Go on, what are their names? he asked. Lucy and Lucas Garner, I said, twins, and probably in the first grade. Call you back, he said, and I walked around the corner of Silver Top, trying to catch my breath while I waited for him.
    He called back two minutes later, catching me red-handed. Thea, you told me they’d been gone a few days, and the school secretary said it’s only been one day, he said. Listen, Knox, I just—I have a hunch , okay? A hunch about what? he said, and I said, A hunch that something’s wrong, Knox, and then, totally deadpan, he goes: You think ? My mouth fell open, because it was so snap! and I didn’t know he had it in him. Then he goes, You’re a regular Nancy Drew, aren’t you? Anyhow, the secretary said the mother called to say they’d be out of town this week.
    Did they say why? I asked. Family emergency, that’s all I know, he said. Why? And I was just like, Where do I begin? Nothing, I said, hanging up. I was standing behind the diner, near the Dumpsters. I don’t know why, really. Just that I like to stay away from the road now, because the last thing I needed was to see Foley driving by. I heard the bell of the front door open, and just as I turned, I saw this fresh black tag on the big blue Dumpster, and I froze, because it was my handwriting, and it said, You’re no Che Guevara! Right away, I knew what it was: it was from a note I’d written in a corner of one of Cam’s pages in Hubble. He was going on and on again about his hacking prowess, and thenI doodled, You’re no Che Guevara! And here it is, spray-painted on the trash Dumpster. I just reached for Hubble, about to pull it out, find the page, and then I almost jumped out of my skin, hearing footsteps, but it was just Sharon, I could tell. So I walked over, and we almost ran into each other, both turning the corner at the same time.
    She said, Thea! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, darlin’, but I thought I saw you walk by, didn’t know what happened to you. Is everything okay? I said, trying to walk forward, get her away from the trash Dumpster. I just wanted to tell you something came for you. In the mail, she said. I said, For me? What is it? And she goes, I don’t know. It’s in a padded envelope. I go, Where is it? I put in the office, she said, heading back inside, so I followed her, and then I realized I’d never been in her office before. All this time, and I’d never been in the kitchen, and it felt… it felt sort of like a special privilege or something to be walking straight through the Silver Top kitchen.
    In here, Thea, she said, and I walked in. The office was tiny, with fake wood paneling and some kitschy things, but I tried not to look around too much. Here it is, she said, handing me this large yellow padded envelope. It’s not marked, I said, studying the postage. I saw that, she said. You want to open here or wait? I don’t know, I said, looking at the handwriting, but it wasn’t Cam’s. Well, then, sit down, she said, nodding at a tiny couch on the opposite side of the office: I’ll let you have a little