Emily nodded. According to the Amish Wikipedia entries she’d read, rumspringa was a time when Amish teenagers could leave their homes and experience things Emily took for granted, like wearing normal clothes, working, and driving cars. After a while, they could either choose to return to the Amish faith or leave it forever. She was pretty sure if they chose not to be Amish, they could never see their families again.
“And . . . well, she never came back,” Lucy admitted. “One day, she was writing my parents letters, telling them what she was doing. The next . . . nothing. No correspondence. No word of her. She was just . . . gone.”
Emily pressed her hands into the hard, worn slats on the porch. “What happened to her?”
Lucy scrunched up her shoulders. “I don’t know. She had this boyfriend, this guy who was part of our community. They had dated for years, since they were both about thirteen, but I always thought there was something weird about him. He just seemed . . . well, he certainly wasn’t worthy of her. I was so happy when he decided to leave the community forever after rumspringa. But he wanted Leah to come with him too—he begged her, in fact. But she had always said no.” Lucy flicked a piece of dried mud off her black boots. “My parents figured Leah died in an accident, or maybe of natural causes. But I always wondered . . .” She trailed off, shaking her head. “They used to fight. Sometimes it got pretty intense.”
A gust of wind pulled a strand of dark hair from Lucy’s bun. Emily shivered.
“We got the police involved. They searched for her but came up with nothing. They told us that people ran away all the time, and that there was nothing we could do. We even got a private investigator—we thought that she maybe just ran away and wanted nothing to do with us. Even that would’ve been fine—at least it meant she was alive. For a long time, we were sure Leah was out there, but one day my parents just gave up. They said they needed closure. I was the only one who still hoped.”
“I understand,” Emily whispered. “I’ve lost someone too. But people come back. Amazing things happen.”
Lucy turned away, gazing across the field at a big, cylindrical grain silo. “It’s been almost four years since she left. Maybe my parents are right. Maybe Leah’s really gone.”
“You can’t give up!” Emily cried. “It hasn’t been that long!”
A farm dog with patchy brown fur and no collar trotted up to the porch, sniffed Lucy’s hand, and then settled by her feet. “I guess anything’s possible,” Lucy mused. “But maybe I’m just being silly. There’s time to keep hope alive and a time to let go.” She gestured down the road to the little cemetery behind the church. “We have a gravestone for her there. We had a funeral and everything. I haven’t gone in there since, though.”
Tears began to spill down her cheeks. Lucy’s chin wobbled, and a small squeak emerged from the back of her throat. Leaning over her thighs, she took deep, shuddering breaths. The farm dog stared at Lucy worriedly. Emily placed her hand on Lucy’s back. “It’s okay.”
Lucy nodded. “It’s so hard.” She lifted her head. The tip of her nose was bright red. She gave Emily a sad, wry smile. “Pastor Adam is always bugging me to talk about this to someone. This is the first time I’ve admitted aloud that Leah could be dead. I haven’t wanted to believe it.”
There was a huge lump in Emily’s throat. She didn’t want Lucy to believe it either—she wanted Lucy to have the same kind of hope that Emily did about Ali. But because Emily didn’t know Leah personally, because she wasn’t Ali, Emily could be more realistic about what might have happened. People who disappear don’t usually come home. Lucy’s parents were probably right that Leah was dead.
A single bright star appeared on the horizon. Ever since Emily was little, she’d wish on the first evening star, recite the “Star Light, Star Bright” rhyme, and make a wish. After Ali vanished, all of Emily’s wishes on the star were about bringing Ali back safe and sound. But if Emily looked at her own life as objectively as she could look at Lucy’s family, what would she come to realize about what had happened to Ali? Was she just being silly too? Maybe the doctors were right—maybe the girl in the woods had simply been a figment of her imagination. And maybe Wilden wasn’t lying, either—maybe there really was a DNA report at the police station that matched Ali’s. Maybe Emily had just become so fanatical about Ali being alive that she’d twisted around all the facts to meet her needs, to prove that Ali was still out there. And now she’d come all the way to Amish country to pursue a lead that probably didn’t even exist. A few minutes ago, she’d even entertained the idea that sweet, innocent Jenna Cavanaugh could’ve helped smuggle Ali out of Rosewood. Maybe she needed to let go too, just like Lucy and her family did about Leah. Maybe it would be the only way she’d be able to move on with her life.
From inside the house, there was a bonging, clanging sound of a pot hitting the floor. Then there were more crashes as dishes shattered. A woman squealed, sounding a little like a cow. Emily sneaked a peek at Lucy, trying not to laugh. One corner of Lucy’s lip curled up. Emily covered her mouth and let out a snort. Suddenly, both girls exploded into giggles. The same stern woman stuck her head out the door and glared at them again. That just made them laugh harder.
Emily reached over and touched Lucy’s hand, overcome with warmth and gratitude. In a parallel, Amish universe, she and Lucy would probably be good friends. “Thank you,” Emily said.