Quiet in Her Bones Singh, Nalini (the top 100 crime novels of all time .txt) 📖

and began to click through her prodigious list of friends. Her page was semiprivate, but she’d friended me a while ago. I’d accepted because I barely posted on my private profile; there was no chance of her seeing anything inappropriate.

I found one “Sarah” among her friends, but she was a girl of the same age as Mia.

Not truly surprised, since Sarah was doing everything she could to stay under Diana’s radar, I switched to Beau’s page. He’d linked up with me a year before his sister. Lots of posts about music, but no Sarah Teague among his contacts, nor anyone who looked like Diana’s sister.

I went back to my search results. Diana had said Sarah wasn’t yet married, so I didn’t have to worry about a name ­change—­unless Sarah had changed her name to further distance herself from Diana. In which case, I was sunk. But leaving aside that ­worst-­case scenario, what else did I know?

She lived in a town in the South Island. She had a senior position in an insurance company. She’d been older than me when she ­left—­an adult to my eyes, but a hot young adult. Couldn’t have been more than nineteen, twenty, which would put her at ­thirty-­two or so today. She’d also gone on a cruise last year to ­Venice—­and she hadn’t gone alone.

Bingo.

Even if she was one of those people who eschewed social media, someone else would’ve likely noted her name in a photo. I kept hunting, the task providing needed exercise for my brain as well as a break from the subject of my mother’s murder. But I kept on striking out. That was when I remembered seeing a name on Mia’s friends list: Olivia Romero.

Dark-­eyed, ­dark-­haired Olivia had been Sarah’s closest friend and the focus of my teenage crush. The two women had been joined at the hip, to the point that when Sarah got caught shoplifting, Olivia was right beside her. They’d done everything together. If anyone knew Sarah’s whereabouts and how to get in touch with her, it’d be Olivia.

Clicking on her profile, I sent a friend request. Since it was late, I wasn’t expecting a response, but it was accepted within seconds. A message popped up the next second.

Aarav! Nice of you to remember your old friends now you’re famous! /jk

World famous in my own head.

Ha! You’re being modest. I saw the movie. It was amazing.

Thanks. Hey, I was hoping to get in touch with Sarah. Have you heard from her lately?

The waving dots that indicated the person on the other end was typing went on longer than usual, so I began to go through her friends list on the ­off-­chance Sarah was hidden in there. I’d gotten halfway through when her reply popped up.

Wow, that’s a blast from the past. Man, we got into such trouble together. Could you have imagined me as a suburban mum with three kids, a golden retriever, and a husband who thinks it’s the height of excitement when one of his zucchinis grows bigger than usual?

Definitely not, but from the pictures on your page you’re very happy with where you’ve landed.

I am. I hope Sarah’s happy, too.

You don’t know?

No, that’s the ­thing—­she ghosted me years ago, back when she had that blow-­up with Diana. She didn’t even tell me she was taking off. I finally called Diana to ask why Sarah wasn’t ­returning my messages or calls. She’s the one who told me that Sarah had bailed. Can you believe it? Nine years of friendship, of ­sisterhood, and she ghosted me?

No, I typed, because there could be no other answer.

I was pissed, but now that I’m a mum, I figure that whatever happened must’ve been extremely traumatic. If she does ever contact me, I’m ready to talk. I’ll be her friend ­again—­I mean, it had to have been BAD. Especially since Diana all but raised her. Look, I go to church twice a week and read my Bible every morning, but Sarah and Diana’s parents were the wrong kind of ­religious—­they took the “spare the rod and spoil the child” thing as a license to harm.

I hadn’t known that tidbit, but it just solidified my impression of the sisters being a tight unit.

You have any idea where she might’ve gone? I was planning to play peacemaker, try to help heal the break.

That’s so nice of you, Aarav. But no, I don’t have anything. Sarah dropped all her friends when she left, even that loser druggie boyfriend she fought with Diana over. I tried to stalk her online last year after I had my second ­child—­feeling nostalgic while ­sleep-­deprived—­but I got nothing. My husband’s an online ninja and he says she’s a literal ghost. Sarah really doesn’t want to be found.

I leaned back in my chair.

Thanks anyway. What’s your ninja husband do in real life?

The ensuing conversation was the kind you have with people you haven’t seen for a while, and I managed to keep up the act for a few minutes. I was trying to think of a way out when Olivia said her ­month-­old baby was ready for a feed and signed off.

I sat there in the semidarkness, staring out into the night.

She’s a literal ghost.

The words kept tumbling around in my head. What the hell was I thinking?

That Sarah hadn’t left at all?

56

Jesus, my paranoia was getting worse. It wasn’t like people couldn’t vanish if they felt like it. And I was looking online. If Sarah had chosen a strictly offline life, she might not have a digital footprint.

I’d check the electoral roll tomorrow at the library. Unless she’d never registered to vote. Why would a woman leave behind her whole life and vanish? The more I thought about it, the more it didn’t make sense. ­Unless … What had Olivia said?

Loser druggie boyfriend.

I vaguely remembered the guy. Mostly because I’d been jealous he got to be with Sarah; being a teen boy, crushing on Olivia hadn’t stopped me from admiring Sarah, too. The boyfriend had ended up in