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E. Jones:What?

Silverman:They have no record of a Gabriela Garcia. And the phone number you gave us belongs to a Martin Anderson of White Plains. Age, thirty-five.

E. Jones:No. That’s... that’s impossible.

Fletcher:Mrs. Jones, have you ever met Gabriela?

L. Jones:[pause] No. No. I’ve... I’ve never met her.

Fletcher:Mrs. Jones... your mother suffers with mental illness, does she not?

L. Jones:H-how did you know that? And what does that have to do with Enchanted?

Fletcher:Has your daughter ever had a mental evaluation?

E. Jones:Mom?

L. Jones:Don’t say another word, Chanted! We’re done here.

Chapter 71

Who is Gabriela?

“Shea, I want you to be honest with me. Do you know someone named Gab or Gabriela?”

Mom and Daddy sit with Shea at the kitchen table while I pretend to be asleep in my room. But these walls are thin.

“For the last time, I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“Shea, this is serious,” Daddy says, exasperated.

“I get that, but doesn’t change what I don’t know!”

“Gabriela,” Mom repeats herself. “A Spanish girl? There can’t be many of them.”

“Yeah, a Spanish girl that looks white. And a senior? That’s a needle in a haystack. I barely know the kids in my own class.”

I text:

GABRIELA! STOP IGNORING ME! THIS IS SERIOUS!

“Can you ask around?”

“None of my friends are talking to me, so sorry I can’t ask them either,” she says bitterly.

“Can we go up to the school, ask about her?” Dad asks.

“I don’t think the school’s allowed to give out information on other students,” Mom replies. “Please, Shea. You must have seen your sister with somebody.”

“No! I haven’t, OK? She mostly hung out by herself. She didn’t even eat in the cafeteria. I don’t want to call her a loser, but...”

Gabriela, please!

“Your sister is in trouble, baby,” Mom says gently. “We need to do everything we can to help her.”

Shea sighs. “I’ll ask around. Can I go to bed now? It’s late.”

“Sure, baby.”