His Personal Mission. Justine Davis

tagging at his heels. He’d even been watchful of his little sister, out in the real world where big animals—the favorites of the already-set-on-her-life’s-path Trish—roamed and smaller critters milked the millions of visitors for all the free food they could get.

      If there hadn’t been ten years between them, would they have stayed closer? Would he perhaps have seen some sign, some clue about what was to come? Would she maybe even have confided in him, the way she once had?

      Or was it not the age difference, but his own fault, for being so wrapped up in his own life and world? Was Sasha right, had she been right two years ago? Was he truly that insular, that shallow?

      He stared at the image of his little sister, at the way, in this photo, she looked up at him with what he couldn’t deny was childlike adoration. Had he taken what he had so for granted that he’d lost it?

       Where the hell are you, Trish? And why?

      His mother’s plaintive words echoed in his mind. What if she never comes back, what if we never know?

      That wouldn’t happen. It just wouldn’t. He wouldn’t let it.

      And Sasha wouldn’t.

      He knew that, on some deep gut level he didn’t even question. If there was a way to bring Trish home, or at least to find her safe and explain all this, Sasha would do it. If there was one thing he’d always known about her it was that there was no way she would give up.

      Ever.

Chapter 6

      “Does Trish have a page or pages on any of the social networking sites?” Sasha asked.

      “No,” Patrick said.

      “Yes,” Ryan said.

      Father and son both blinked as they looked at each other.

      “I see,” Sasha said.

      “She does?” Joan asked her son.

      “Well, yeah. She’s a teenager. They all do, I think.”

      “When was the last time you looked?”

      Ryan shifted uncomfortably. “Right after she set one up, about a year ago. She asked me to, asked for my opinion.”

      “But you didn’t check it with any regularity?”

      “Not once she got it going. Her friends there are mostly teenage girls who punctuate everything with OMG.”

      “OMG?” Joan asked.

      “Oh, my God,” Sasha explained, still looking at Ryan, who grimaced.

      “Anyway, it gets old. And I guess I kind of forgot until you asked just now.”

      He sounded more than just sheepish, he sounded remorseful. Sasha couldn’t imagine having a sibling and not wanting to know what they were doing, but perhaps that was because she had none.