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‘Er, Albert is me.’

DAY 3

    28 days to go …

    â€˜Bodhan, wake up. Bodhan!’
    â€˜What? What is it, Mama?’ I asked, pulling my blanket over my head to block out the light. ‘I’m sleeping!’
    â€˜Winifred Ormond is here to see you,’ she said, shaking my shoulder firmly.
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜Quick, Bodhan, get up!’
    I launched myself out of bed and pulled on the grey trackies that were slung over my desk chair. I got one leg stuck and, hopping off-balance, crushed some audio equipment on the floor and almost slammed into my fish tank.
    â€˜Please,’ I heard Mrs Ormond’s muffled pleading from down the hall. ‘I need to know wheremy son is! I need to speak to Boges, now! Boges! I want the truth!’
    â€˜Tell her I’m not here!’ I hissed to my mum.
    â€˜What do you mean, Bodhan? What’s going on?’
    â€˜Please, Mama, I’ll explain later. I have to go. I’m really, really sorry.’ My mum stared at me, shocked and confused, as I threw some stuff in my bag, kicked the flyscreen out of my bedroom window frame, then jumped out into the backyard.
    I fell hard on the dewy grass—it had been a while since I’d had to sneak out my window. I crawled to my feet and looked up at Mum again. She was staring down, her eyes wide. I held my hands up to calm her, then held a finger to my lips. ‘I’ll be back soon,’ I mouthed, ‘I promise!’

    When I finally stopped running and slowed down at the local shops to grab a breather, I regretted my decision to bolt out of the house. I wasn’t ready to face Mrs Ormond, but now I’d upset my mum, too. I’d seriously betrayed her trust last year when I snuck out of the country to Ireland, and I swore I’d never lie to her ever again …
    And then I spotted the newspaper headlines.

    I didn’t need to see any more than that. Damn that Ben Willoughby! Why couldn’t he leave Cal alone? My mind reeled. No wonder Mrs Ormond had come after me, wanting answers.
    I wanted answers, too. I’d tried everything I could think of. But I hadn’t found a trace of Cal anywhere.
    Where could he be?

    Winter and I sat on her couches, staring off intospace. Neither of us knew what to do about Cal and we felt absolutely useless. I was meant to be preparing for my NASA interview, but I couldn’t concentrate on that when the only problem I wanted to solve was finding out what had happened to my best friend.
    We were clutching onto the idea that Cal had taken time out, but neither of us really believed it. I looked over at Winter, still in her pyjamas. She was practically strangling a cushion, her brow furrowed.
    She’d moved back into the Frey house months ago, but so far only had the basics organised. The place was well over ten times the size of her old rooftop flat in Lesley Street, and I don’t know if it was the emptiness, but Winter looked small and pale. I offered her some of my ham and cheese roll, but she refused it with the tiniest shake of her head.
    We both jumped when her mobile phone rang from the coffee table.
    â€˜Who is it?’ I said, as she looked at the screen.
    â€˜Don’t know. No caller ID.’
    Tentatively, she pressed the ‘answer’ button.
    â€˜Hello?’
    Winter’s face instantly transformed from worried to horrified. Her shoulders tensed up around her ears and her mouth fell open.
    â€˜What’s wrong? Who is it?’ I asked, rushing to her side.
    â€˜Who is this?’ she said, her voice trembling.
    â€˜Put it on loudspeaker,’ I whispered.
    With shaking hands, Winter held her phone out and activated the speaker.
    â€˜You do not need to know that right now,’ answered a distorted, robotic voice. ‘All you need to know is that I have Cal.’
    Hearing the caller speak Cal’s name was like being punched in the guts. I leaned on the coffee table, forcing myself to