“History buff?”

“Revolutionary War, yes.” He nodded, then added, “And also my sister went to school here.”

“You knew how to get here all along?”

“No. I've never been here before, never visited her when she was in college.” His expression was somewhat regretful. “Like I said, Wendy and I were never really close. When she was an eighteen-year-old freshman, I was six. I sort of understand why Belinda searched for her donor siblings. It's occurred to me that she's as connected to them, in a way, as Wendy and I were. Same sperm donor. Different mothers.”

“You think of your father as a sperm donor?”

“He never seemed to stick with any of his wives after they'd had a child. Neither Wendy nor I really knew him.”

“How many wives has he had?”

“I think four.”

“You have other half-siblings then?”

“I only know about Wendy, but I suppose anything is possible.”

“Is he still alive?”

“Last I heard. We're not particularly close.” Nick stared straight ahead, his jaw squared. It was clear this was not a subject he wished to discuss. She could respect that. There were some things she didn't like to talk about, too.

Emme craned her neck to look over the traffic that blocked the lanes in each direction. “We have to find Nassau Street.”

“You're on it.” He pointed across the street to the sign on the corner. “Where are we supposed to meet Hayley?”

“At a pancake place near the theater.” Traffic crawled toward the light. Several times she had to brake to avoid the pedestrians who crossed the street without apparent regard to the cars. They approached the next light slowly.

“This is Witherspoon Street,” she told him. “According to the map I looked at online, there should be some public parking down here somewhere. The pancake house is at the far end of this block of Nassau Street. We'll park and look for the florist.”

“What florist?”

“Hayley wants me to carry a red rose so she'll know me.” Emme smiled.

“Kid watches too many old spy movies.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

She made the turn, and searched for a parking spot. She found one in front of a small café, and fed the meter before heading up toward Nassau Street. At the flower shop, they stepped inside for the requisite red rose.

“This one's on me.” Nick paid the clerk and handed the flower to Emme. “It's the least I can do to thank you for letting me tag along.”

“Thanks.” She took the rose and they walked toward the corner, sidestepping the students who walked in pairs or in clusters. Nick took her arm as they navigated through the throng.

“There.” Emme pointed ahead at the two-story building with the striped awning. “Pancake House.”

They stepped through the red double doors, and once inside, she scanned the tables and booths for a teenaged girl wearing a red scarf.

“Hold the rose up a little higher.” Nick stood behind her, whispering in her ear.

“How stupid do I look twirling this thing around?” She gave the stem a twist as she glanced from one crowded table to the next.

“Well, I'm not sure that stupid is the word I'd use.” He took several steps away and pretended to be scrutinizing her. “Silly might work. Amusing is better. But not stupid.”

“Very funny. I'll try to remember not to ask rhetorical questions around you.”

Emme looked around the room. It seemed every kid in town and half of the students from the university had stopped in for a snack after class.

“Her red scarf should be easy enough to pick out. Oh, there, on the right…”

Emme took a few steps forward, holding the gaze of the young girl who sat alone at a booth against the wall, a bright red scarf tied jauntily around her neck. She had dark blond hair and round tortoiseshell glasses. She smiled uncertainly when Emme waved, and raised her hand to wave back. When she realized that Nick was headed her way as well, she froze.

“Who's that?” Hayley asked suspiciously.

Emme slid into the booth next to Hayley. “This is Nick Perone. Belinda… Belle's uncle.”

“The perv?” Hayley's expression was one of disgust.

“What?” Nick stared across the table. “What did you call me?”

“You're the perv who's looking for Belle.” She turned to Emme. “You didn't tell me you were bringing him.” Hayley shook her head. “I wouldn't tell you where Belle was even if I knew.”

“Go back to the part where you called me a perv.” Nick's frown creased his forehead and drew his eyebrows close together. “Where did that come from?”

Hayley shifted uncomfortably on the bench.

“Hayley, why would you say such a thing?” Emme asked.

The girl shrugged. “They were saying on the loop that maybe the reason why she ran away was because her uncle… the one who posted on the loop… maybe he, you know, hurt her.”

“Did Belle ever give you or any of the others any reason to think that her uncle-or anyone else-had been abusing her?” Emme asked. “Or had hurt her in any way at all?”

Hayley thought it over before shaking her head, “No.”

“Then maybe you shouldn't put any stock in some idle comment that someone”-some thoughtless jackass kid-“tossed out without any regard to the truth.”

“Listen, Hayley.” Nick lowered his voice and leaned his body closer to the table. “I am not now and never have been a ‘perv.’ I'm looking for my niece because she's been missing for five months-five months when anything could have happened to her. She's all the family I have, Hayley. I need to find her. You may be the only person who can help us to do that.”

“I'm sorry. You're right. It was just something stupid someone said.” Hayley turned to Emme. “Everyone knows I'm meeting with you. If anything happens to me, they have your name and your phone number. I posted it on the message board.”

“That was very smart of you, Hayley,” Emme assured her. “Good thinking on your part. Nick and I are only interested in finding out what happened to Belle, but you were right to take some precautions, just in case.”

The girl seemed to relax slightly.

“Are you hungry?” Emme asked.

“The food's pretty good here,” Hayley said, hopefully. “I usually get the peanut-butter-and-chocolate-chip pancakes, but the raspberry ones are good, too.”

“I'm sold. Raspberry for me.” Emme looked across the table at Nick. “You need a menu?”

“Are you kidding? They have peanut-butter-and-chocolate-chip pancakes and you have to ask?”

He gestured for the waitress and gave her their order. When she'd turned away from the table, he said, “So you told your donor siblings that you were getting together with Emme.”

“Not really everyone.” She appeared to Emme to be debating with herself. “Well, really just Ava.”

“Ava's one of your sisters?”

Hayley nodded. “She's the oldest. I always go to her when I have a problem or anything. You know.”

“Because every girl wants to have a big sister. I do understand,” Emme said, because she did, although her wanting had stopped long ago. “Hayley, how old are you?”

“I'm sixteen. I know, I look younger, but I was sixteen on my last birthday.”

“How old is Ava?” Nick asked.

“She's old. Like, twenty-four. Everyone says we look the most alike.”

“And that makes you happy.” Emme could tell that it did.

Hayley nodded again.

“Where does Ava live? What's her last name?”

“She lives in Boston. She's in graduate school. And we don't do last names. Just first names.”

“Why no last names?” Nick asked.

“Because they don't matter,” Hayley said simply. “We all have different last names, so we decided none of us would use them.”

“Because you're bonding as siblings, and you want to stress what you have in common, not what's different,” Emme noted. “I get it.”

Their beverages were served, coffee for Emme and Nick, soda for Hayley.

“How many are you, all together?” Emme asked.