“Honestly? Probably.” It wasn’t what she wanted to hear, but I was pretty sure I’d seen him put the phone up to his ear in the rearview  mirror as we pulled out of the parking lot. She was quiet again.

“So, um, where are we heading now?” She pulled out the road map book, flipping it open to a page she’d drawn on.

“Raleigh. Just go south pretty much.” I nodded and pulled onto the highway. I could feel the tension in the air between us as we drove in silence. I didn’t want to interrupt her thoughts, partially out of fear that I’d accidentally ask more questions and make her mad. I hadn’t forgotten her outburst at the Mexican restaurant on that first day.

The curiosity was killing me. All the questions just swirled around in my head and it took everything I had to stay focused on the road and keep driving. I was vaguely aware as Mitta – Grace’s dead sister – turned on the radio and fiddled with the knobs a bit, returning to her stare out the side window as soon as the station was clear. Why did everyone think she was dead? And if she wasn’t Grace, then… where was Grace? Why wasn’t she concerned? Why didn’t she want her parents to find her? She must have known where Grace was. That’s the only thing that made sense.

The radio caught my attention as it stopped in the middle of a song. It apparently caught Mitta’s too, because she turned her head sharply to look at the little box on the dash. An announcer’s voice started talking.

“This is an important announcement for the entire Baltimore area: Grace Barnum has been seen heading south on Jones Falls Expressway in an old Volvo with her hair dyed red. Anyone with any information on her whereabouts is asked to call (410) 887-3871 immediately. She was seen in north Baltimore with a Hispanic woman, yet to be identified, and may be operating under the alias of ‘Sara.’” Mitta did nothing but stare at the radio, frozen in place.

“For anyone unfamiliar with the tragic story, Grace Barnum, 19-year-old from East Geneview, Maine, went missing approximately two and a half weeks ago, four days after her twin sister committed suicide,” the announcer continued. “Various tips have led police to believe she is heading down the East coast, stopping in major cities. What would usually be nothing more than a runaway teen has turned into a national sensation as more details have been released. Just three days after her disappearance, her father, Joseph Barnum, was found dead from alcohol poisoning. Mildred Barnum, his wife, was brought to a psychiatric facility earlier the same day after a failed suicide attempt. She was treated for severe depression and released yesterday. The family has no other known relatives.

“The American Foundation for Suicide Prevention has funded much of the search for Grace, using the tragic situation to raise public awareness of the dangers of depression and suicide. If you would like to donate to help find Grace, or provide help for others who are struggling, you are encouraged…” Slowly, almost painfully so, Mitta raised her hand to the radio and turned the knob, filling the car with the sound of static. Neither of us moved.

I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t possibly imagine how she must be feeling – she just found out her father was dead for heaven’s sake! And her mother tried to… but what about her? The only explanation I could come up with was that she’d done what her mom did – tried to kill herself and failed, but everyone thought she’d done it. Except, instead of getting help, she ran off with a stranger. And what about Grace? Where was she in all of this?

Unless… unless Mitta had lied to me. That made more sense. If she was Grace, then everything fit together. But where did she get all the cash that never seemed to end?

“We can’t go to Raleigh,” she said, interrupting my thoughts.

“What?”

“They’re watching where we go – it’s the next logical stop, so they’ll be looking. Take the next exit.”

“Where are we going then?”

“Nowhere. If we get on a different highway and head southwest, we’ll be driving through nothing for days. Just trees and occasional rest stops or gas stations. It’ll give them time to lose interest.” To stop looking.

I took the exit like she said and kept driving. What else could I do? I expected her to start crying eventually. She couldn’t have known about her dad, and that had to be a shock.

Could she have known? When she punched the wall that night she had been talking to someone and asking why. Maybe… she had been talking about her mom. That made sense, right?

Would I ever actually know what was going on? I felt like she had to tell me eventually, but her turned head didn’t suggest that she had any intention of doing so. 

“Turn left here,” she said, so I changed lanes and pulled onto a back road.

“I thought you said we were getting back on a highway.”

“We will. Once we’re further out.” I didn’t know what I could do but nod. Slowly the static on the radio became music as we entered some new station’s reach and an old country song started to fill the silence in the car.