Misty looks up at me with wide, reddened eyes. Her mouth is open as if she’s so shocked by the request she can’t even bring herself to make any sound. Finally, she lets out a sound that’s somewhere between a breath and a gasp.
“They think it was Ashley’s?” she asks.
“Right now, no one is coming to any conclusions. They just have to cover all the bases. That location was obviously of significance to Ashley, so it’s important any evidence found there is treated as though it could be a part of her disappearance,” I say.
“She was only thirteen years old,” John points out. “She was just a baby herself.”
“I know,” I nod. “And I’m sorry. I can’t even imagine how upsetting this must be for you. But it’s important that the investigation is as thorough as possible, even when it’s uncomfortable. We need to identify the mother of that baby and find out how it came to be under that rock. You can submit samples at the police station. It’s a very easy process.”
John shifts in his seat for a second. “I won’t need to take a test.”
That straightens my spine and makes my skin sting as I instinctively prepare myself for what might be coming.
“Why not?”
“It won’t prove anything. I’m not Ashley’s biological father.”
That’s not what I was expecting to hear. The tension that came into me while my mind readied to hear something horrible drains out of me, but leaves questions. They aren’t ones I’m going to ask. It’s up to Misty and John to tell me what they think I need to know.
“Alright,” I say.
Misty’s shoulders sag under the weight of a long exhale.
“I married John after Ashley was born,” she tells me. “He isn’t either girl’s biological father. But he’s been the most incredible father either of them could have.”
I nod. “I don’t doubt that. But in that case, yes, Misty will be the only one who needs to be tested. Then we’ll go from there.”
I went with Misty to submit her sample, then made sure she didn’t need anything before heading back to the hotel to meet up with Xavier and Dean and update them on everything that’s developing. Xavier is on a video chat when I walk into the room; I’m surprised to see my father’s face on the screen.
“Hey, sweetie,” he calls over.
“Dad?” I frown, taking a seat on the couch beside Xavier. “What are you two talking about?”
“Clandestine soup can concealers. The ever-present risk of unintentional clue discovery and its solutions,” Xavier rattles off.
I have two options here. I can ask him what the hell he’s talking about and open myself up for that conversation. Or I can pretend I fully understand and move forward. At this particular juncture in my life, I’m going to opt for the latter.
“How’s everything?” I ask my father. “Where are you?”
“Iowa,” he says. “I had a few things I needed to take care of here.”
I know better than to ask what he means by that. Iowa carries a lot of meaning for me and for my family. Even though my memories of the place are limited to brief snippets I’m not even sure are completely real, I know the value of the place to my parents. I visited a few years ago when I was still trying to understand what happened to my mother. I didn’t find much. But I know there are still secrets hidden there that I don’t need to know about.
“How is your case going?” I ask.
“It’s kind of at a standstill right now. There are some unexpected turns I need to research before I can move forward. But that’s actually working in my favor. One of the men I was telling you about reached out to me,” he says.
“From The Order?” I ask.
My father nods.
“Emma,” Xavier says in a low tone, leaning slightly toward me.
“I told you I thought he might. He said there’s an event coming up he thought I might be interested in. It’s for long-standing members, and they needed to further verify my status within the organization before inviting me,” Dad goes on.
“Emma,” Xavier repeats.
I pat his arm to acknowledge I hear him, but don’t look away from the screen.
“Isn’t that exactly what you said wasn’t happening in the other chapters, though?” I ask.
“It is,” Dad confirms. “Which makes it particularly interesting. And the idea of verifying my status within The Order stood out to me. I’m not sure what he meant by that.”
“You mentioned there were two men who you thought might know more than they were letting on,” I say.
“Yes,” Dad acknowledges. “But one had to take leave for a while. Apparently, he sent a message to the others saying he needed to go care for his sick grandmother.”
That strikes me in a strange way, but I’m not sure exactly why. Beside me, Xavier starts scooting across the cushions, pushing me to the side. I’m trying to respond, but his jostling me is distracting.
“Xavier, what are you doing?” I finally ask when he’s managed to nudge me almost off the corner of the couch.
“You stole my phone call,” he says matter-of-factly.
“I’m sorry. Dad, I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Bye, sweetie.”
They get back to their conversation and I go over to talk to Dean. He’s leaned back against the headboard of one of the beds, his long legs crossed in front of him. I get on the other bed and flop onto my stomach. The angle lets me stare through the sliding glass doors of the balcony into the blue sky.
“How do you think they got Greg out on that beach?” I ask after a few long moments.
Dean lifts the remote, pointedly mutes the TV, and swings his head to the
