Chapter 4

"Oh my god, I think I' m going to be sick," I suddenly gasped, clutching my stomach. "Those pancakes... I think they' re coming up."

Mom turned, her face a mask of concern. "Sarah? Are you okay?"

"No, I really need a restroom, now!" I said, trying to sound desperate. "The clubhouse, it' s right there!"

I pointed towards our community clubhouse, just inside the gates.

Dad was still preoccupied with the supposed oil leak. "An oil leak, you say? Damn it."

"Go, Sarah, hurry," Mom said, distracted. "We' ll check the car."

I scrambled out of the car and ran towards the clubhouse, not looking back.

Inside the empty ladies' room, I leaned against the cool tiles, my breath coming in ragged gasps.

My phone. I fumbled it out of my pocket. Still no signal.

Useless.

Then, a new text pinged. From Michael. How?

"DON'T TRUST ETHAN! RUN!"

My blood ran cold. Don't trust Ethan? But he just created the diversion.

Before I could process it, a shadow fell over the frosted glass of the small restroom window.

Ethan' s face appeared, peering in.

For a horrifying instant, his features seemed to ripple, to blur, like a bad TV signal, before snapping back to normal.

My heart leaped into my throat.

"Sarah? You in there?" Ethan called, his voice smooth, persuasive. "Your parents are worried. They said to tell you it' s okay, they understand you' re stressed. It' s all part of the plan to find Michael."

"What plan?" I whispered, backing away from the window.

"A plan I have. To get Michael back. But you need to come with them, with your parents. They' re waiting. We need to get you to the exam first, make everything seem normal."

His words were like honey, but Michael' s warning screamed in my head. "DON'T TRUST ETHAN!"

The shifting features. The impossible text.

"I... I need a minute," I stammered.

"Sarah, we don't have much time," Ethan urged, his voice taking on a harder edge. "Just come out. We can talk in the car."

He was lying. I could feel it. The way his eyes didn't quite meet mine, even through the frosted glass.

The door handle to the restroom jiggled.

He was trying to get in.

Panic seized me. I had to get out, but how? The window was too small to climb through.

The main door was my only option, but he was right outside it.