We were eating cake when Ethan put down his fork and looked at me. "Who's James Miller?" My knife and fork froze in midair. My heart clenched. James Miller. That name was a code Lily and I came up with freshman year of college, after too many drinks and a stupid, tender night. We agreed that if either of us ever got into trouble, ever went silent, the other one would use that name as a signal. No one else knew. Just the two of us. And Lily had been missing for thirty-two days. She said she was going to Harlow, Montana to clear her head. And then she never came back. I looked at Ethan's calm face and felt my blood go cold. How did he know that name? I still remember the night we came up with that stupid code. Lily had her arm around my shoulders. She was a little drunk. "Everly," she said, "let's make a code." "What kind of code?" I told her she was being dramatic. But I stayed up with her thinking about it anyway, and we settled on James Miller. Because it was so ordinary. The kind of name you'd pass on the street without a second thought. No one would ever suspect its meaning. Only the two of us in the whole world knew what it meant. One was me. The other was Lily Hart. She said she was going to Harlow, Montana for a few days. She even sent me a voice message the morning she left, her voice bright and excited. "Everly! What do you want me to bring back?" That was the last time I heard her voice. After that, her WhatsApp went silent. Her phone went straight to voicemail. Her Instagram stopped at a photo she'd posted by the lake, blue sky, white clouds, her standing in front of a flower stall with her eyes crinkled shut from smiling. I filed a missing person report. Her family filed one too. Local authorities in Harlow, Montana were looking. But there was nothing. No sign of her alive, no sign of her dead. Lily had vanished like she'd never existed. And now. My husband Ethan Cole. A man who didn't even have Lily's number. A man who would barely nod at her when they were in the same room. Had just asked me that name, casually, between bites of cake. "You okay?" Ethan watched me go still and raised an eyebrow. "You look weird." "I'm fine." I looked down and put a piece of cake in my mouth. It tasted like nothing. "James Miller? Never heard of him. Is he someone you know?" "Oh, just scrolling." He picked up his coffee and took a sip. "Never mind." He changed the subject. Started talking about a golf game he had planned for the weekend. I didn't hear a word. There was only one thought in my head. How did he know? How did he know that name? After dinner, Ethan went to take a shower. I sat on the couch with sweat on my palms. The sound of water came through the bathroom door. I glanced at it, then stood up and walked to his phone on the coffee table. I knew the passcode. It was my birthday. I unlocked it and started going through his WhatsApp, his call log, his notes. My fingers were shaking. Nothing. It was too clean. Clean in a way that wasn't normal. A real person's phone doesn't look like that. I went to his laptop next. It was in the study. The password was my birthday too. He had never hidden it from me. I went through his browser history, his folders, his downloads, one by one. Then I opened a ride-share app and pulled up his trip history. My hand stopped. A month ago. Ethan told me he was going to Boston for two days on a work trip. I had helped him pack. But the app said something different. He hadn't gone to Boston. He had gone to Harlow, Montana. He left one day before Lily did. He came back two days after she disappeared. The shower turned off. I closed the laptop, walked back to the living room and sat on the couch and picked up my phone like I was watching videos. Ethan came out with a towel around his shoulders. He glanced at me. "You're not sleeping?" "In a bit. Just finishing something." I smiled. He went into the bedroom and turned off the light. I sat there staring at the dark line under the bedroom door and felt my fingers tighten one by one around the arm of the couch. Ethan. What did you go to Harlow, Montana for?
The next morning I told Ethan the office had a last-minute project and I needed to travel for a few days. He was buttoning his cuffs and didn't look up. "Where to?" "Miami." "How long?" "Three or four days." He turned and looked at me and smiled. "Stay safe." I smiled back. I had a noon flight. I didn't go to Miami. I went to Harlow, Montana. The plane landed at two in the afternoon local time. The air was dry and sharp and the sun hit me the moment I stepped outside. The last photo Lily sent me was taken somewhere in this town. The lake, the blue sky, white clouds. Her standing in front of a flower stall with her eyes crinkled shut. I didn't stop to feel anything. I went straight to the B&B where Lily had stayed. I'd looked it up before I left. She'd sent me the location in a message before she flew out. A place called The Pineridge Lodge, right by the lake. At the front desk I pulled out a photo of Lily and asked if they remembered her. The woman shook her head. "Her name is Lily Hart. She's from Chicago," I said. The woman checked her computer and nodded. "We have a record. She stayed two nights, then she didn't check out and didn't extend. Her luggage is still in our storage." My chest pulled tight. Her luggage was still there. And she was gone. I steadied myself and asked the question I'd been dreading. "About a month ago, was there a man from Chicago also staying here?" I put Ethan's photo on the counter. She looked at it and checked her screen. Then she looked up, her expression uncertain. "Yes. He stayed four nights." Four nights. Two more than Lily. "What room?" "203." "And Lily Hart?" "205." Same floor. One room between them. I stood at that counter and felt the noise in my head build to a roar. My first thought was the obvious one. That something was going on between them. Lily and Ethan, staying in rooms next to each other in Harlow, Montana. But the moment that thought came, something else pushed it back down. No. Lily hated Ethan. Not the polite kind of dislike people hide behind small talk. The kind where she couldn't even bother to fake it. Every time I brought Ethan to a group gathering, Lily went quiet. Once, when she'd had too much to drink, she looked right at him and said, "Everly is perfect in every way. I have no idea what she's doing with you." Ethan's face had gone rigid. After that they barely saw each other. These were not two people sneaking around together. So why was he in the room next to hers? What was he doing there? I took a slow breath and looked at the woman behind the desk. "I need to see your security footage from that period." She hesitated. "I'd need to check with the manager." "Please do." "We may also need the police involved." "My best friend is missing." I kept my voice flat, but my hands were shaking. "A month. No trace of her. This B&B may be the last place she was seen. Do you think your manager is going to say no?" She looked at me for a moment. Then she picked up the phone.
Twenty minutes later the B&B manager walked me to the security room. It was small. One desk, one computer, two monitors. He pulled up the footage from the day Lily checked in. I sat down and watched. Day one. Lily came through the front door pulling her suitcase, checked in at the desk, smiled and chatted with the staff. She was wearing a blue dress and her hair was down. My eyes stung. In the corner of the frame, at the entrance. A man pushed through the door. Black polo shirt. Baseball cap. Sunglasses. The build. The way he moved. Ethan. He didn't go to the desk. He sat down in the seating area near the lobby and picked up a magazine. But his eyes followed Lily the entire time. From check-in to room key to the stairs. He watched all of it. My back went cold. "Fast forward," I said. The manager sped up the footage. Day one, afternoon. Lily left the B&B to walk around. The exterior camera showed her stepping out. About three minutes later, Ethan came out the side door. Same cap. Same sunglasses. Thirty feet behind her. Day one, evening. Lily had dinner at the restaurant next to the B&B. Ethan sat outside at a table with a cup of tea. From where he sat, he had a clear view of her table. Lily never noticed him once. Day two. Lily went to the lake. Ethan followed. Lily walked through a small market district. Ethan followed. Lily stopped at a street stall and crouched down to take a photo of something she was buying. Ethan stood in a bookshop doorway across the road, pretending to browse. Every frame. Every shot. He was there. My hands started shaking. This wasn't an affair. People having affairs walk side by side. They eat together. They touch. He hadn't spoken a single word to her. He stayed back. He kept distance. He wore a disguise. From start to finish, Lily had no idea he was there. This wasn't an affair. He was tailing her. "What happened the next day?" I said. "Please, show me." The manager pulled it up. Day two, afternoon. Lily left the B&B. She had her bag, her phone, and she looked relaxed. The camera showed her walking out the front and heading north along the road. Three minutes later. Ethan came out the side door and walked in the same direction. Then the footage ended. The B&B's cameras only covered the building and the immediate street. Fifty feet out and the world disappeared. "Do you have anything else?" I asked. He shook his head. "Just these. The road cameras would be with the police." I sat there for a moment. Then I stood up, thanked him, and walked out. Outside on the front step I opened the map on my phone. The direction Lily had walked was north. North along that road took you past a few small neighborhoods, some open land, a parking area. And then, at the end of it, the base of the mountains. Undeveloped terrain. No trails. No markings. I stared at that spot on the map and my fingers went cold. She walked there. He followed. And then she was gone.
I rented a car and drove forty minutes to the end of that road. It ran out at a stretch of rough hillside. The slope was steep, loose rock and scrub brush all the way down. The wind was strong enough that I had to brace myself just standing there. This wasn't a trail. There were no signs, no path, just a dirt track leading up into the slope. I walked to the top and looked down. Below was rock and dry grass and a ravine cut through by what looked like old floodwater. If someone went over the edge here. I stopped the thought. I started asking around the area. There was a small cluster of houses nearby, maybe eight or ten of them, spread out along the base of the slope. I went door to door with Lily's photo. No one recognized her. Seven doors, eight doors. Every one of them shaking their head. I was turning to leave when I saw a little girl sitting under a tree at the edge of the road. Six or seven years old. A faded pink t-shirt. Barefoot, sitting in the dirt playing with stones. She was holding something. A phone. Pink case. A cartoon rabbit sticker on the back. Everything went quiet in my head. That case was a birthday gift I'd given Lily. I'd picked it out myself. Pink, rabbit design, because Lily loved rabbits. I walked over and kept my voice gentle. "Hey. Where did you get that phone?" The girl looked up at me and pulled it behind her back. "Is it yours?" "No," she said quietly. Her eyes moved away from mine. "I'm not going to get you in trouble," I said. I crouched down so I was at her level. "The person this phone belongs to is my best friend. She's lost and I'm trying to find her. Can you tell me where you found it?" The girl pressed her lips together. She didn't say anything. But there was something in her eyes I don't often see in kids that age. Fear. Not of me. "Did you see something that scared you?" I asked, keeping my voice low. Her lip moved. Still nothing. I reached into my pocket and held out some bills. "You tell me, and I'll get you something nice. Okay?" She looked at the money. Looked at me. A long pause. Then she said, very quietly, "I found it at the bottom of the hill." "Which hill?" She raised her hand and pointed toward the mountains. My stomach dropped. "Did you find anything else?" She went quiet again. Her eyes shifted. "You did, didn't you." Slowly, she brought something out from behind her. A small bag. Canvas, floral print, with a little tassel on the zipper. Lily's. I knew that bag. Two years ago she'd seen it at a store and couldn't bring herself to spend the money, so I went back the next day and bought it for her without telling her. She was happy for days. Now the fabric was dark with mud and water stains. The canvas had started to go moldy. I took it from her. My hands were shaking. I opened it. Inside: lip balm, a portable charger, and a photo of the two of us. Everything still there. Lily would never throw these things away. If they were at the bottom of that slope. Then where was she? "Can you take me to where you found these?" I asked. The girl shook her head hard. "I'll pay you." Still shaking her head. "Please." My voice cracked. I wasn't thinking about whether I was scaring her anymore. Lily's phone and bag were at the bottom of that hill. Lily wasn't. I had to go there. The girl looked at my face for a long time. Maybe my expression was frightening. She stood up slowly and brushed the dirt off her shorts. "Okay," she said. "I'll take you."
She walked ahead. I followed. The path got narrower and the brush got thicker and something in the air started to change. My stomach turned. I repeated it to myself, over and over. I would rather she had something going on with my husband. I would rather she had betrayed me. I would rather she had run off with Ethan. Anything. As long as she was alive. Anything. The girl stopped. She turned and looked at me. Her face had gone pale. "Ma'am." "What is it?" "That place." She swallowed. Her voice was almost nothing. "It smells bad." I didn't keep walking. I understood what that meant. And I knew that if I went down there alone and found something, it wouldn't count for anything. I needed professionals. I needed it on record. I took the girl's hand and walked her back to the road, then pulled out my phone and called the local police. It took two tries to get through. I explained everything. "You're saying your friend might be at the bottom of a slope?" "Yes. Her phone and bag were found there by a child. She's been missing for a month. Please just send someone." They said they would. It would take time. I hung up and called a search and rescue team. I'd looked them up before I flew out. There was a volunteer group in the Harlow, Montana area that worked with police on searches in rough terrain. The rescue team said they could be there by afternoon. Waiting was the hardest part. I sat on a rock at the edge of the road and held Lily's bag and didn't move. I opened it and took out the photo. The two of us standing outside our dorm building on graduation day, in our caps and gowns, arms around each other, laughing. Lily was making a heart with her fingers. We were twenty-two years old. Lily was my roommate all four years of college. Across from me. She slept on the left, I slept on the right, and every night we'd talk across the gap between our beds until two or three in the morning. About the future. About gossip. About boys we liked. About what we thought our lives would look like. On the last night of graduation, there was a party in someone's dorm. We slipped out to the fire escape with two beers and sat there looking up at the sky. That was the night she came up with James Miller. "Everly, let's make a code." "If one of us ever gets into trouble, the other one hears that name and knows it's time to act." I told her she was being dramatic. But I remembered it. I thought I'd never need it. Now I was sitting in the dirt outside Harlow with her bag in my hands, waiting for a search team to come find her body.
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