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THE LIST

The list arrived after Sloane had been gone teeks

I wasn’t at hoone yet again, hoping against hope to find her there I had decided, as I’d driven over to her house,wheel, that if she was there, I wouldn’t even need an explanation It wouldn’t be necessary for her to tellher phone, texts, and e- with her parents and their car I kneas ridiculous to think this way, like I was negotiating with souarantee this for ot closer and closer to Randolph Farms Lane I didn’t care what I had to promise if it meant Sloane would be there Because if Sloane was there, everything could start ain

It was not an exaggeration to say that the last teeks had been the worst of my life The first weekend after school had ended, I’d been dragged upstate by ainst my wishes and despite my protests When I’d come back to Stanwich, after far too alleries, I’d called her i impatiently for her to answer so that she could tell me where she was, or, if she was home, that I could pick her up But Sloane didn’t answer her phone, and she didn’t anshen I called back an hour later, or later that night, or before I went to bed

The next day, I drove by her house, only to see her parents’ car gone and the s dark She wasn’t responding to texts and still wasn’t answering her phone It was going right to voice mail, but I wasn’t worried, not then Sloane would sometimes let her battery run down until the phone shut off, and she never seeer was And her parents, Milly and Anderson, had a habit of forgetting to tell her their travel plans They would whisk her off to places like Palm Beach or Nantucket, and Sloane would return a few days later, tan, with a present for me and stories to tell I was sure that’s what had happened this time

But after three days, and still no word, I worried After five days, I panicked When I couldn’t stand being init to ring, I’d started driving around town, going to all of our places, always able to iine her there until the moment I arrived to find it Sloane-free She wasn’t stretched out in the sun on a picnic table at the Orchard, or flipping through the sale rack at Twice Upon a Ti up her pineapple slice at Captain Pizza She was just gone

I had no idea what to do with myself It was rare for us not to see each other on a daily basis, and we talked or texted constantly, with nothing off-lies like I think my new skirt make me look like I’m Amish, promise to tell me if it does? (me) and Have you noticed it’s been a while since anyone’s seen the Loch Ness monster? (her) In the two years we’d been best friends, I had shared alhts and experiences with her, and the sudden silence felt deafening I didn’t knohat to do except to continue texting and trying to find her I kept reaching forthe fact she wasn’t answering her phone

I drew in a breath and I held it as I pulled down her driveway, the way I used to when I was little and opening upI still didn’t have, the only thing I wanted

But the driveas empty, and all the ere dark I pulled up in front of the house anyway, then put ainst the seat, fighting to keep down the luer knehat else to do, where else to look But Sloane couldn’t be gone She wouldn’t have left without telling me

But then where was she?

When I felt ot out of the car and squinted at the house in thesun The fact that it was empty, this early, was really all the evidence I needed, since I had never known Milly or Anderson to be awake before ten Even though I knew there was probably no point to it, I crossed to the house and walked up the wide stone steps that were covered with bright green suh that I had to kick them aside, and I knew, deep down, that it was more proof that nobody was there, and hadn’t been there for a while now But I walked toward the front door, with its brass lion’s-head knocker, and knocked anyway, just like I’d done five other tilass on the side of the door, still with a tiny flicker of hope that in a second, any minute now, I’d hear Sloane’s steps as she ran down the hall and threw open the door, yankinga mile a h the glass was the historical-status plaque just inside the door, the one that proclaimed the house “one of Stanwich’s architectural treasures,” the one that always seeerprints

I waited another few minutes, just in case, then turned around and loweredvery hard not to have a breakdown a the leaves

There was a piece ofto find this had been a very realistic nightmare, and that any minute now, I’d wake up, and Sloane would be there, on the other end of her phone like she was supposed to be, already planning out the day for us

Sloane’s house was in as always called “backcountry,” where the houses got larger and farther apart froer pieces of land She was ten miles away fro shape, had been easy for hborhoods couldn’t have been more different Here, there was only the occasional car driving past, and the silence seemed to underscore the fact that I was totally alone, that there was nobody ho back I leaned forward, letting my hair fall around me like a curtain If nobody was there, it at least meant I could stay awhile, and I wouldn’t be asked to leave I could probably stay there all day I honestly didn’t knohat else to do with myself

I heard the low ruhope flare onceslowly down the driveasn’t Anderson’s slightly dented BMW It was a yellow pickup truck, the back piled with laers and rakes When it pulled in front of the steps, I could see the writing, in stylized cursive, on the side Stanwich Landscaping, it read Plantinggardeningmaintenanceand mulch, ans Not that she was a huge fan of puns, but she’d always said she liked to picture the owners thinking them up, and how pleased with themselves they must have been when they landed on whatever they’d chosen I immediately made a mental note to tell Sloane about the motto, and then, a moment later, realized how stupid this was