Page 76 of The Sound of Him

Did I smile, before the closet?

This should feel different. I figured out his identity. I’ll find him. I won’t fucking stop until I find him. This should feel better than it does. I should feelbetter.

Instead, I’m left with nothing but this strange feeling that’s just getting worse with every passing breath. It’s not the itch of anxiety or pang of sadness. It’s not even that stomach churning combination of disgust and despair that I’ve gotten so used to. It’s something aching and deep.

It’s something too much like how I feel when I wake up from a nightmare about the closet. Not what I feel in those first seconds, when I’m trying to catch my breath and remind myself where Iam, but what I feel in the minutes after. That feeling that sinks right in until I feel small and broken and so goddamn tired.

I’ve never had a word for that feeling.

Maybe if I had a word for it, I could figure out why the fuck I’m feeling it right now.

I tell myself it’s because there’s a slight chance that I still haven’t actually found him. I could show this picture to Carter or Casey and be told that this young boy isn’t the right match. I could discover that, despite him meeting the description given, he’s still just another missing kid in a sea of them. Then I’d have to wade back into that sea and drown myself all over again.

I print off the picture, carefully blowing on the glossy paper to get it to dry faster. The house’s occupants are starting to move around by the time the ink is safe to touch. Carter isn’t out of his room yet, but Casey has been swimming in the pool for a while now and Nolan nearly has breakfast finished, so it won’t be long. He’ll either wake up and come out on his own, or Casey will drag him out.

Besides, this is good news. A surprise, since Travis wanted to keep it under wraps until we knew we had a chance. Finding his identity gives us a chance. Carter can confirm that this is the right person and we can start looking for him in earnest. We can try to save him. I’m pretty sure Carter would love to be woken up for that.

Maybe seeing his happiness will finally get my own to kick in a little.

Of course, the interaction starts right off the bat with disappointment. It’s written all over his tired, pillow-wrinkled face that he was hoping to see Travis when he opened his door. I’m definitely a let down. Not that I can blame him for that, but still… not the best feeling.

I paste on a smile, though. I’m good at that. “Not the one you wanted, I know. But I have good news.”

He looks pretty damn skeptical. “And what’s that?”

I hand him the photo. His response is instant, Carter nearly collapsing at the sight of the smiling boy. This is the right Elliot.

He looks devastated. Hopeful. Confused. Then devastated all over again. Tears start to well up in his eyes.

I answer his questions, trying to balance on the edge of hopeful and realistic. I give Travis most of the credit since it was his idea in the first place, tossing Maison’s name in there too for good measure. Both of them could really use the brownie points with him.

By the time I’ve explained everything, given him just enough hope, and promised him that Travis is safe as of his last check-in, I’m still not feeling better.

In fact, I’m feeling fucking worse.

The second he closes his door, my smile drops. I pull out my phone, trying to look like I’m concentrating in case anyone passes me by. None of the survivors would stop me, but I can’t say the same for Jake or Maison. I definitely can’t for Adam. He’s already slipped me two passive aggressive notes and given me a very long, meaningful look that means I’m running out of time before he puts a stop to my avoiding him.

I don’t blame him. I know I need him. I need a lot of things right now.

I just can’t seem to convince myself to reach out and take them.

There’s a strong smell coming from the kitchen. Bacon, I think. Something sweet, too. My stomach quakes, but I take the back route to avoid passing through. I don’t want to see whoever is in there.

Even if I was feeling social, and even if I know I really need to eat, just the idea of trying to do so right now has nausea surging through me. My hands are starting to shake, though. Between the lack of sleep, the drugs having worn off, and the emotionalmess inside my head, I either need a boost of calories and caffeine, or I need to finally let myself crash.

My legs are as shaky as my hands by the time I sink into my desk chair. I have to lean back and close my eyes, breathing through the wave of nausea, then breathing through the wave of - ofsomethingthat follows. That something from before. That aching. I can feel it lodging in my throat, like it’s determined to choke me if I refuse to choke on vomit.

When I can trust my stomach, I open my eyes again.

Elliot is still on my main screen, his smiling face staring back at me.

I found him.

I fuckingfoundhim.

Maybe not his body, not yet, but I figured out who he actually is. Carter confirmed it.Thisis the boy I have to find. I have a picture. It should be so much fucking easier to find him now that I have a picture. I already know exactly what facial recognition programs I can run him through. I know what list of operatives I can send the image out to so he’s on their radar if they come across him. I know exactly who the men are that are the likeliest to have either bought him or know who did, and I know exactly what codes I’ll write to get into their private servers and dig around. Hell, at least 70 percent of the work will be done by the computer. If all goes well enough, there’s a decent fucking chance that I’ll barely have to dig through extra horrific shit before finding whoever owns him. A few pictures or videos just to verify, and I could be done with this entire fucking search once and for all.

Another wave of nausea is just starting to build when I drop my gaze from the computer screen to find the note on my desk. I pick it up, being more careful than I had been with the photo before it was dry. It’s the same as before - neatly folded four times, eight capital letters in shaky blue ink:THANK YOU.