Besides, it would totally mess up my metabolism if I started skipping meals on a regular basis, and that would just make me even more stressed out. And no one likes a stress pooch.
“My mom is freaking out over it, and she’s forced the family into lockdown for the foreseeable future,” Bethany continued, rolling her eyes. “I reminded her that if the kidnappers were looking for targets who they could get big ransoms for, it wouldn’t be us. She didn’t find that very funny.”
Oh, geez.
“So, on account of the fact that my mom has clearly gone insane, I can’t make it to our weekly today,” she finished, looking more bummed than apologetic. Bethany was talking about our regular excursion to the nail salon—and knowing how she felt about gossip, I knew it was killing her to opt out of a prime opportunity to gab. She’d probably begged and pleaded with her mom to change her mind to no avail.
Watching her try to choke out the words, I decided to put her out of her misery. “It’s no biggie, B. I was gonna cancel this week, anyway. I’ve got some stuff I have to take care of at home. I have cookies to bake, reading to do…”
And moms to track down.
I still hadn’t heard from Mom, but she knew about the “no phone calls at school” policy and insisted on following the rules. The sooner I found out she was okay, the sooner I could get on with my regularly scheduled life.
“Guess we’ll all wait until next week, then?” Trish asked, not bothering to acknowledge the fact that Sofia hadn’t canceled. But if her feelings were hurt, Sof didn’t show it.
Bethany looked relieved to hear that she wouldn’t be missing out on the dish after all. She smiled at me and I returned the gesture, happy she was happy, but wishing I felt the same.
Chapter Six
Mom wasn’t at home waiting for me when I got there and she still wasn’t answering her cell. She hadn’t shown up by the time I started dinner, but I cooked for the both of us anyway, and eventually sat down to eat by myself. Desperately needing a distraction, I flipped through the channels until I found a movie starring one of those goofy guys from Superbad and forced myself to watch it. Ever try watching a comedy when you’re just not in the mood to laugh? Apparently, it has the opposite effect, or so I found out when I started to feel even more on edge than I’d been before.
Putting the leftovers in the fridge for Mom, I practically jumped out of my skin when my phone went off. My heart hammering in my chest, I flipped open my phone without even looking at the caller ID.
“Mom?” I asked. I hadn’t intended for my voice to sound so hopeful, but I couldn’t help it.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t her on the other end.
“Hadley?” It took me a few seconds to place the voice.
“Jinx?”
“Yeah,” she said meekly. I could feel the fear coming through the phone as clearly as if she’d expressed it out loud. It was more than just the hesitation in her voice, though. Right now it was as if I was feeling what she was feeling. And her emotions were overwhelming. For a second, this threw me off, because for as long as I’d known Jinx, she’d always been in control. She was never over-the-top; she was even-keeled. Calm and collected. Prim and proper, without being a total Stepford. Her easygoing attitude made it so that she got along with pretty much everyone. There wasn’t a person who didn’t like her—including me. So the fact that she was now acting a little unhinged set off alarms in my head.
“What’s wrong, Jinx?” I asked.
“Have you seen my parents? They left last night—said they were going to meet your mom and the rest of the Cleri for something—and, well, see…”
Her voice trailed off and I was left waiting on the line for a few seconds. I wanted to tell her to spit it out, but forced myself to take a deep breath before talking. “What happened, Jinx?”
“They never came home,” she finally said. And with those words, my heart sank. It wasn’t just my mom. “I tried calling Jackson first, but couldn’t get ahold of him. So I thought maybe you’d heard from your mom and knew where they were? That you could tell me that they’re okay? Are you still there?”
I’d only had a few conversations with Jinx before, and none of them had been outside of witch classes, yet here she was asking me to give her answers. Sure, I’d been the second person she’d contacted, but she obviously thought I could help. And I wanted so badly to do that.
After all, she’d always been kind to me—on the rare occasions that we’d said more than a few words to each other, at least. And despite the fact that Jinx had experienced a much more luxurious upbringing than I had, she’d never treated me or anyone else like we were below her. We might’ve even been friends if we’d gone to the same school and I’d been able to devote the kind of time that went into a friendship.
I wished I could shed some light on the situation that was clearly stressing her out. Unfortunately, I was just as in the dark as she was.
I must have gone momentarily catatonic because Jinx had to say my name a few more times before I responded.
“I’m here,” I said finally. “I’m sorry, Jinx. The truth is, I haven’t heard from my mom since last night either.”
The line buzzed with white noise as neither of us said what we were both thinking. So I broke the silence. “Listen, I’m going to give the others a call and see if anyone else has heard from our parents, and then I’ll call you back, okay?”
I knew this wasn’t what Jinx wanted to hear, but the wheels in my head were already spinning and I didn’t have time to console her. I had to find out what was going on. Still, I felt bad about leaving her feeling so helpless.
“We’re going to figure this out. I promise,” I said before hanging up and heading to my room to find the others’ numbers.
First I called Sascha. And then Jasmine. When I’d gone through my entire witchy address book, I finally dialed Fallon’s number, not even bothering with pleasantries. As I hung up, I collapsed back onto my bed, eyes wide and feeling eerily numb. If I hadn’t been positive that I was awake, I would’ve thought I was having a nightmare. But there was no doubt this was really happening.
No one had heard from any of our parents in over a day, and the sinking feeling was steadily growing in the pit of my stomach.
I stared up at the ceiling, noticing for the first time that there was a discoloration right above my head in the shape of a turkey. Like the kind of turkey you made in first grade by outlining your hand. How had I never noticed that before?
I blinked. I had to snap out of it.
Picking up the phone again, I dialed the only number I hadn’t called yet. And I didn’t have to wait long for someone to answer.
“It’s bad, isn’t it?” Peter said before I could even say hello.
“Something’s definitely going on,” I answered, unwilling to confirm what I thought he was saying. Before I went overboard with conspiracy theories, I had to assess things for myself. And Peter might be the only one who had the clues I needed. “The Cleri held an emergency meeting last night. You know anything about it?”
“Your mom was over here for a little bit with a few of the others, and they were talking about getting the group together. They thought I wasn’t listening, but I was,” he said, sounding slightly guilty.
“That’s great, Peter,” I said, encouragingly. “Did you hear where they were going?”
My pulse was racing. If Peter didn’t know this, we really had no leads. And my fear was that time was already running out for our parents.
“They said something about trees or bushes,” he said.