Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 68538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
I remembered that.
When Athena’s sister first went missing, Athena’s parents had gone ballistic, and spent every penny they had on private investigators and any resource that might help them get their daughter back. In the end, they ran out of money. Her husband died, her son died, and Athena’s mother just couldn’t handle the heartbreak anymore. So she’d asked Athena to stop looking.
Honestly, I could understand. Really, I could.
But I knew that Athena would never stop.
Not until she found what she was looking for. I mean, she was building her entire life and skillset around finding her sister. Why would she quit?
“Well, then sure. You can use anything of me you want,” I said. “Will your app be able to access the DNA database?”
My question had an answer about thirty seconds later. “Yes, it will. Eventually. I’ll have to ask for permission first. It’s not like they’ll just give everyone’s DNA out to some rando off the street. But if the app gets popular enough, there might literally be people reaching out to me to add their DNA outside of the database. People want to find their loved ones.”
Just like she did.
“How do you want it?” I asked.
“Mouth swab,” she answered. “I’ll bring the kit over. Then run it through the lab at school and upload it from there. I can access one of your photos that we’ve taken on my phone.”
“When are you…”
There was a knock on my door, and I knew without checking it was Athena.
I hung up and swung the door open wide, revealing my best friend.
Athena was short, Asian, and the cutest little thing that you’d ever seen.
Her parents had adopted her at the age of three, bringing her home from Japan to a house full of other adopted children. Gavrel had been from Russia, and their little sister was brought home from a hospital in Portland, Oregon.
She was a firecracker, though, and so full of life at times that it was blinding.
“Hey,” she chirped, waving her cell phone at me. “I’m here.”
I snickered and waved her in.
“What’s new with you?” she asked as her eyes zeroed in on the table where my computer was resting. “New places?”
“Yeah,” I said. “So listen to what happened to me today.”
I explained everything, telling her every detail of the last couple of hours.
“Wow,” Athena shook her head. “So you’re thinking about moving to Sunnyvale? Really?”
I nodded, my heart in my throat.
I really was.
This was a huge step.
“And do you think that your dad will let you live in peace over there?” she asked as she uncapped a white tube and handed me a stick.
I rubbed it on the inside of my mouth before answering.
“Well, I don’t know that he’ll leave me alone. But it’s my hope that I’ll be out of his reach forty minutes away. Plus, I’m thinking about taking this bakery and turning it into something else anyway. I don’t like the hours.”
She rolled her eyes.
She knew I didn’t like the hours.
Hell, who would like getting up that early in the morning?
She capped the tube and dropped it into her pocket before scrolling through my saved places.
The one that’d originally caught my eye caught hers, too, and she pointed at it. “Email them and ask about that one.”
That was why we were best friends.
“Do you think I’m making a hasty decision by moving there? I mean, what if Auden and I don’t work out?” I pushed.
Athena’s gaze came to meet mine. “Since when have we ever done the safe thing, Maven Amalia?”
She had a point.
I mean, I’d opened the bakery on a whim. I’d moved out of my parents’ house in the dead of night. I’d bought a car just to spite my father. I always jumped in with two feet, and never tested the waters first.
What was any different about this time?
Just put a ball of aluminum foil in the microwave at the station so we could get off early today.
—Text from Auden to Atlas
AUDEN
I made it five days before I caved.
Originally, I was going to just go sit across the street and watch her work.
But when I pulled up across from her shop, a large red sign hung on the door with bold black letters that said ‘CLOSED.’
Frowning, I went to the door to see what was up and peeked inside.
There wasn’t a single pastry in sight, and the only person inside was Pepper, who was moving around cleaning up tables and stacking chairs.
I tapped on the glass door to catch her attention.
She saw me and came over, opening the door.
“Wow, a Carter,” she said as she blocked me from coming inside. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
I smirked at her. “I’m hungry and thought I’d stop by.”
She raised her brow at me, catching me in my lie. “Sure, sure. And it has nothing to do with wanting to see Maven?”