Darkness My Old Friend

must.

She was thinking this as she walked past the rows of green lockers over the freckled vinyl floors to the office. The lights were on, but the desks sat empty; computer screens were dark.

“Hello?” she said.

“Hello?” answered a male voice from down the hall. A moment later Henry Ivy came walking out. Bethany felt herself blush. He looked so… earnest. She hated for him to know how quickly Willow had broken her promises. But it couldn’t be helped.

“Willow didn’t come home on the late bus.”

She didn’t want to sound like she was freaking out, but she really was. Her stomach was a mess; she was close to tears.

She remembered how she felt when she’d called Evelyn Coates-was it more than a year ago now?-looking for Willow, who was supposed to be watching movies at the Coateses’ Tribeca loft and spending the night.

“Beth,” Evelyn had said. She still could recall the immediate pitch of worry she heard in the other woman’s tone. “Willow’s not here. Zoe’s sitting on the couch in front of me watching television.”

In that moment she felt a flash of fear and sadness, but also, dare she admit it, hatred for Evelyn and her perfect marriage, her perfect life, her perfect child who was exactly where she was supposed to be.

She’d hopped a cab, and less than half an hour later she was standing in the foyer of the multimillion-dollar loft listening to Zoe confess that Willow had a boyfriend, someone older that she’d met at the Britney Spears concert. Zoe hadn’t wanted to lie, but she didn’t want her friend to get in trouble, either. So she’d told Willow she’d cover for her.

“But Willow never went to the concert,” Bethany had stammered, unthinking. “I don’t understand.”

“Yes she did. Didn’t she?”

“No,” Bethany said, still not realizing what she was doing. “Her father got hung up at work and couldn’t take her.”

More than anything she remembered that look on Evelyn’s face-that drawn look of sympathy and concern, really just a mask covering malicious glee, superiority, and gratitude that she wasn’t Bethany Graves right now.

“Where was she supposed to be tonight, Zoe? Is she with him right now?”

Zoe shrugged. “I don’t know. If she lied about the concert, then she lied about the boy, too. So I don’t know where she is.”

Bethany realized then that she’d been the one to blow Willow’s cover, to unearth whatever lies she’d been telling her friends. As soon as she left, Zoe would be texting, Facebooking, and e-mailing all their shared friends to expose Willow’s deceit.

“Where did she say she was going?”

“Just out with him. She didn’t say where.”

“And then she was going to come here?”

Zoe looked down at the floor and shook her head.

“What? She was going to spend the night with some boy and come home in the morning?” Bethany didn’t like the shrill tone in her own voice, but panic was getting the better of her. Where did her thirteen-year-old daughter plan to spend the night if not at home and not at her friend’s loft? And how could Bethany be so ignorant of the fact that Willow was a stone-cold liar?

Another shrug from Zoe. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Graves.”

Bethany felt the ground beneath her feet fall away.

Kind of how she felt now standing before Henry Ivy, who had so sweetly tried to help Willow, to cut her a break. “She told me she wanted to stay late to study,” Bethany said. “I called the librarian, who confirmed she was there.”

“Well, let’s go check with Mrs. Teaford,” said Mr. Ivy. Just the sound of his voice was soothing. “The library is open until five. Maybe Willow’s there, lost track of time.”

“Maybe,” said Bethany. She felt a surge of hope, which quickly passed as they entered the library. The study tables at the front of the room were empty. The lights over the stacks were dark. Mrs. Teaford looked up from her computer screen; her coat was on, and her bags were sitting beside her. She was ready to go home for the night.

“Oh, Willow was here. I’m not sure when she left. Jolie Marsh was with her. Usually they’re trouble together, have to be separated. But they were being quiet, had their textbooks open. I didn’t notice them get up.”

“Don’t they need a pass to leave the library?” asked Bethany.

“Not after hours.” Mrs. Teaford gave Bethany a politely pitying smile. It was a look Bethany had seen before from school officials, reserved for parents who clearly didn’t have control over their children, a mask of empathy that barely concealed disdain.

Out in the hallway, Bethany tried Willow again from her cell phone. Again just voice mail. This bothered her more than anything, because Willow knew she was skating on thin ice with that phone. Bethany had given it back after the incident in the woods, even after threatening to take it away, mainly because she didn’t want not to be able to reach Willow. But the rule was if Bethany ever couldn’t reach her on that phone, the phone would be confiscated indefinitely. Why wasn’t she answering? Why hadn’t she called? Bethany knew there were dead zones in The Hollows, that cell service was often spotty. But it was almost five. Willow must know that Bethany was sick with worry; by now she would have called with some lame excuse.

“Okay,” said Henry. “Let’s try to think a second. Where might Willow go? I know that some of the kids like to hang out at the old graveyard up the road.”

Bethany remembered Willow mentioning it, that it had scared her a little. She didn’t think Willow would go there again. She said as much.

“Well, let’s just take a quick ride up there and see.”

She hit “send” on the phone again. As she did, she watched a man approach them. He cut a big, dark figure in the hallway, seemed to dominate the space with a slow and easy approach. When he reached them, Bethany thought he looked familiar, but she couldn’t place him.

“Hey, Henry,” he said, extending a hand.

“Good to see you, Jones,” Henry said. He took the other man’s hand and patted him on the back in one familiar gesture. “We’ve got an issue here. I know you need to talk, but can it wait a minute?”

“Sure. Anything I can do?”

Jones Cooper, Bethany realized then, Dr. Cooper’s husband. Bethany had seen him working around the yard when she brought Willow for her appointments.

Henry introduced them. She liked his handshake, his barn jacket, and his barrel chest. He had a nice face. Rugged was the word that came to mind. Reliable.

“We’re looking for a couple of kids,” said Henry. “Willow Graves didn’t come home on the late bus.”

She saw a shadow of something cross Jones Cooper’s face. It made her own heart start to pound.

“We were thinking of checking out the old graveyard,” Henry said. “Just going to head up that way now.”

Jones pointed toward the door. “My truck’s right outside. I can take a quick run up there with you.”

The graveyard was a tired, dilapidated little place, and Bethany could see immediately why Willow hadn’t liked it, not that anyone sane had much of an affinity for graveyards. It looked lonely and abandoned, a resting place for the forgotten dead. As they exited their vehicles-Bethany and Henry followed in her car behind Jones Cooper-she could see that the ground was littered with beer bottles and cigarette butts.

“They haven’t been able to get anyone to do the job of caretaker here,” Henry said. He stopped and peered at a plaque pushed into the stone wall. It was so weathered and calcified as to be unreadable. “It’s a historic site. Shame that it’s fallen to disrepair.”

Fallen to disrepair. As though everything tends that way if we don’t hold it back. If we just release our grasp on anything, it falls apart. Jones pushed open the gate; it protested with a squeal. And just then, with the sun nearly gone from the sky, standing in that terrible place, Bethany thought she’d implode with anger and worry and regret. Why had she moved them to this place? She must have been crazy to think Willow would ever adjust to The Hollows. She’d been scared; that was the truth. After that night when she realized how much trouble a girl like Willow could get into in New York City, she wanted her as far away from that