I didn't sleep again.
Apparently, that was becoming a habit.
I sat at my desk with my notebook open.
At the top of the page, I wrote:
NORTHERN TERRITORY STUDY GROUP
Underneath it, I wrote everything I knew.
Twenty years ago.
My mother.
Mr. Hale.
Three other people.
One missing.
I stared at the last line.
My mother had said they were lost.
Not dead.
Not gone.
Lost.
There was a difference.
I wrote another question.
Who was the missing person?
Then I stopped.
I remembered the photograph.
Five students.
My mother.
Mr. Hale.
Three others.
I had only really looked at the girl.
I hadn't paid attention to everyone else.
I pulled the notebook closer.
Tomorrow.
I needed to find that photograph again.
---
The next morning, I arrived at school early.
Maya wasn't there y
