Page 13 of Winter’s Teeth

The others were starting to scatter, heeding my words about not wasting time while she was still missing. A few seemed grateful to have the excuse just so they didn’t have to witness more of the tense family dynamic.

“Dad, I don’t know what you expect,” I complained. “She was here at breakfast, she took a shower, and then she vanished.”

“Well did she get out of the shower? Where were you?”

“I was getting dressed.”

“For that long?” Clara interjected, thinking she was being helpful by trying to pin more blame on me.

I scoffed incredulously. “Seriously? This is my fault? I got dressed, I figured she was still showering, so I went outside to see how the set up was going.”

“You figured, did you?” Dad pinned a look of utter disappointment on me, lips pursed and curling with disdain.

Ripping my arm out of his grip, I moved so fast and violently that his nails left scratches through the fabric. “Enough! This is pointless. We need to keep looking. We... We might even need to call the police.”

The realization this could be a much bigger case—that foul play could be part of it—hit me like a truck. I needed to sit down before I fell over, but I pushed myself to keep walking towards the door, following the others who were getting back to the search.

Brett blocked my path in the foyer. Worry clouded his eyes, silver lining the edges. “Who would do such a thing to her? Who would kidnap her on her wedding day? Did she have exes I never knew about?”

“No. Brett...” I laid a hand on his arm. “She doesn’t have exes like that. She wouldn’t run off either, so I’m sure there’s an explanation we just haven’t thought of yet. We’ll find her.”

Footsteps thundered after me. “You were always jealous of your sister.” Dad just wouldn’t give it a break...

I spun around, asking him wryly, “So what? You think I killed her and left her in the woods on her wedding day to make up for having shit parents? That wouldn’t change a damn thing. Everly was the only one there for me. So, if you think I would hurt her in any way, you’re out of your damn mind.”

We were all a little out of our minds at the moment, and I was no exception, but I couldn’t deal with the Bennetts today. Not right now.

A swath of dark hair and broad shoulders flashed behind them. “Fox!” I called out, skirting around my dad and his wife to catch up to the man. “Fox, wait. Have you noticed anything? Where do you think we should search? This is your family’s property, after all.”

He couldn’t meet my eyes as he stammered. “No. No, I haven’t seen anything. I don’t... I don’t know...”

“It’s okay,” I said quickly, not trying to pass blame on anyone or make him more uncomfortable or scared than we already were. “If you see anything, call for me right away.”

Before he could respond, a groomsman roared outside, “Footprints!” Excited voices followed.

I pushed and shoved my way through the crowded door, slipping under elbows and around the gawkers to get where the footprints were seen.

The indentation of bare feet the size of a child’s led in a track through the snow, breaking through the thinnest layer of ice on top, heading straight into the woods.

I ripped my shoe off, planting my foot in the burning cold snow beside a print to be sure of it.

“Same size,” the groomsman who found the prints said.

Everly and I had the same shoe size—size tiny. On a choked breath, I said, “It’s her.”

Chapter 6

A bridesmaid dress was the most unsuitable getup possible to wear when joining a search party. I hastily threw on wool leggings, boots, and a cable knit sweater before dashing down the steps of the cabin with the door banging shut behind me. State troopers arrived mere moments ago, and I was going to be part of the first search party to head out with them.

A rough hand snagged me by the arm, hauling me back off the top step of the porch. “Where do you think you’re going?” asked the gruff voice of my unfortunate sperm donor.

I glared up at him. “Let me go, Dad. I’m going out to search for Everly.” Obviously.

“No, you’re staying here with us in case she gets back. We have more questions for you, and the cops will, too—”

I let out a frustrated groan, loud and laborious enough to startle the chickadees out of the nearby trees, and wrenched my arm out of his grip. Or at least, I tried to, but he held on with bruising force, twisting the skin of my arm painfully beneath the sweater.

“Let me go!”