IT WAS JUST after ten when I finally crawled back out of bed. I was hungry, so I made a ham and pickle sandwich, turned on the television, and found that the cable still wasn’t working. Frustrated and bored, I decided to rearrange my bedroom. After an hour of moving heavy furniture around, I stood back, only to realize that everything had worked better in their original positions. Defeated, I gave up and sent a text to Nora to see how she was doing. Unfortunately, she didn’t respond, so then I sent one to Scott, who didn’t get back to me either. I knew there wasn’t much I could do to help find her father, but then I started wondering if I should just drive to her house and offer a little moral support.
“Cassie,” my mother said, interrupting my thoughts. “Bryce called. He’s going to try an
