parentsââ
âI know who your parents are. I wish they were mine.â
âNo, Giles, you donât understand. When I was younger . . . but now . . . now everythingâs different. I think itâs the pressure or all the attention or something.â
âMaybe,â Giles said, unconvinced, âmaybe not. After following them, I think it might be something else. Itâs one thing to act mean or forgetful, itâs something else to sneak into the woods in the middle of the night and . . .â He looked up at her.
Juniper locked eyes with him. âTell me.â
Giles exhaled a deep breath. âI wanted to keep a close eye on them, maybe find out what was wrong and fix it. One night, when they thought I was asleep, they left the house and walked into the woods. I followed them. I didnât want to be caught, so I kept far back. They walked for a long time, almost in a daze.â
âWere they sleepwalking?â
âNo. Definitely not. They hadnât slept in days. Just before they left, they were arguing like mad. Eventually, I followed them all the way here.â He looked around. âI think it was here.â He touched a nearby tree, inspecting it, found nothing, then went on. âSomewhere around here, anyway, and then they disappeared.â
âWhat do you mean, âdisappearedâ?â
âThey were there one minute; they were in front of a tree, touching it. Then they were gone.â
âIt was dark out. You probably just couldnât see where they went.â
âThey didnât keep walking. Iâm telling you. It was dark, but I was able to follow them this far. After they stopped, they just vanished.â
âAre you sure?â
âIâm telling you the truth. I looked all over for them. They were gone. When I went back to the house, they werenât there. I stayed up for a long time, as long as I could, but I didnât see them until the next morning. By then they were . . . different. You have to believe me. They were gone. Somethingâs off. My parents . . . they . . . they . . .â
âThey what?â
He clearly didnât want to say it. There was great fear in his eyes, fear that Juniper felt she understood. In fact, she knew what he was going to say, but she still needed him to say it.
Finally, he did. âThey havenât been right lately.â
Juniperâs insides went ice cold. She looked deep into his searching eyes. âGiles, I do believe you. I really do.â
The rain began to come down even harder and the thunder roared to life overhead. There was nothing to be done now. She gave Giles her umbrella for the long walk home. But not before they decided to do some more exploring together the next day, two friends in search of answers.
Chapter 3
J UNIPER SAT IN THE BACK ROW of the Berry home theater watching old family videos, something she found herself doing often lately. Twelve rows from the screen, she looked at all the empty seats before her. What were they even there for? They were never filled, not even close. Once, it was just the three of them, and now it was only her. Her and Kitty.
Kitty always refused to keep still here. She preferred to run across each aisle, one after another. Up and down, back and forth, between seats and under them, fighting for Juniperâs attention. She didnât succeed this time.
On the screen was footage from several years earlier, a trip to New York City. Juniper stood in the middle of a snow-covered Central Park with her mother. Her fatherâs voice could be heard from behind the camera.
âJuniper, how do you like New York? Isnât it great?â
The city was quiet, the sound of traffic long faded. There was hardly anybody about and peace had settled in comfortably. Snow clung to the tree branches like white moss, weighing them down. Benches and sculptures and