Chapter 1

May 27, 1994

Heather swaysin the bonfire’s flickering light, moving along to whatever song happens to be playing on the boombox that sits on the big, flat rock. Her shadow dances on the ground behind her. When The Sign comes on B-94, the radio station out of Pittsburgh, she belts out the lyrics to the Ace of Base song, raising her arms and closing her eyes to lose herself in the music.

When she opens them, Gino, from her chemistry class, is pressing a sweating bottle of Zima into her hand.

“Thanks.” She smiles and takes a swig, grimacing as the citrusy clear malt liquor hits her taste buds. Then she shakes it off and drinks again.

There are a lot of kids in the hollow. A lot. Most of the seniors, plenty from the lower grades, too. Some kids from other schools. This is the largest of the fires, but not the only one. Some groups have split off, made smaller fires where they’re drinking their own cheap booze and listening to their own music. The woods echo with competing noises.

Everyone’s celebrating something. It’s the holiday weekend, and there are only a few weeks of school left. Prom is coming up. Then graduation. The waterpark opens tomorrow. Summer’s almost here, and the energy is high, barely contained.

The strains of the opening saxophone loop of Rump Shaker fill the air. Heather chugs the rest of her drink, sets the empty bottle on the ground, and then does as the song suggests. When the song ends, she collapses onto a log next to her sister, breathless and laughing. Amy nudges her with her shoulder.

A guy from the next fire over wanders up to them, a can of beer in each hand. “Nice moves.”

She grins. He hands her a can of IC light. She runs it over her sweaty neck before popping the tab and taking a long drink. He offers Amy the second beer.

She shakes her head. “No, thanks.”

He shrugs and opens it for himself.

Amy turns to her sister. “And you should slow down.”

Heather dismisses her with a flick of her wrist.

The guy looks from Heather to Amy and back to Heather, then asks, “You bring your momma?”

They both laugh. Amy frowns, then she gets up and leaves. He slides into the spot she’s just vacated, dips his head, and says something in a low voice. Heather laughs even louder. Amy doesn’t turn around.

Amy bumpsinto a girl she knows from the yearbook staff. They talk for a while about prom, summer plans, college orientation. Then Amy checks her watch and says goodbye. She has a midnight curfew. Heather does, too, even though she’s a year and a half younger. Diana, two years older than Amy, always tells her not to whine about it. When she was a senior, she had a ten o’clock curfew. Their parents, according to Diana, are getting soft.

Soft or not, they can’t be late. It’s time to go. She returns to the bonfire, but Heather is gone. The log where she’d been sitting is now occupied by a couple who Amy knows from her homeroom. Michelle and Brett are making out, oblivious to the party around them. Amy moves on, circling the fire. No Heather.

She returns to the log where the pair is still macking. She waits, antsy. Neither of them looks up. Finally, she taps Michelle on the shoulder. The girl whips her head around to glare at her.

“What?”

“Have you seen my sister? She was sitting here with some guy?”

Michelle narrows her eyes. “No. Beat it.” She flicks her wrist at Amy, just like Heather did earlier, then resumes sticking her tongue down Brett’s throat.

Brett flips Amy off and runs his hands down Michelle’s back.

Amy walks away. She asks everyone she runs into if they’ve seen Heather. Nobody has. Another time check. It’s ten to midnight, and they have a twenty-minute drive. Damn you, Heather. Panic rises in her chest.

She starts asking if anyone’s seen Heather or a guy with a fade. The answer is still no. Tears fill her eyes. She didn’t even want to come to this stupid party. Heather cajoled her into it. Probably because they share a car and she knew Amy wouldn’t drink if she was driving.

Now, she’s going to end up in trouble because even though this is definitely one hundred percent Heather’s fault, she’s the older sister and should know better. She can already hear the lecture.

Frustration wars with worry. She should just leave. That’ll teach Heather a lesson.

She’s weighing her options when Rich Marino runs up the hill, shouting “Cops, cops!”

Girls scream, people take off, streaming out of the woods.

Amy’s frozen. She wants to flee and save herself. But she can’t abandon her sister—not if the police are sweeping the woods. Rich skids to a stop and shakes her.

“Did you hear me? Get out of here.”

She shakes her head. “I can’t find Heather. I can’t leave her here.”

He swears. His chest is heaving from exertion. He locks eyes with her. “Go. I’ll look for her.”

She hesitates. Rich’s older brother is a rookie cop. He joined the force as soon as he was old enough. That’s probably how Rich knows the cops are on their way. And it’s not like Jimmy’s gonna arrest his own brother. Right?

“Go.”

She squeezes his arm. “Thanks, Rich. Last time I saw her, she was talking to some guy at the big fire. He doesn’t go to school with us.”

He frowns. “The Black guy with the fade and the earring?”

She hadn’t noticed an earring, but she nods.

“Okay. I’ll find her. Now, go.”

She runs.