Found by Harlan Coben Page A

the bird fly around.”
    I smiled.
    “So who’s missing?”
    “A guy Ema met online. His name is Jared Lowell.”
    I filled her in on what I knew. When I finished, I said, “Can I ask you a personal question?”
    “Sure.”
    “Are you and Troy . . . ?”
    “No. You of all people should understand.”
    “Understand what?”
    “He loves basketball like
you
love basketball.”
    And it had been taken away from him in his final year. Troy was maybe good enough to play college, get a scholarship even, and now it was all gone.
    “Do you think he did it?” I asked.
    “Took steroids?”
    “Yeah,” I said. “He says he was set up.”
    “Is that possible?” Rachel asked.
    “I don’t know. You know him”—ugh—“well. I want your opinion.”
    “Why do you care what I think?” she asked.
    “Because he asked me to investigate it.”
    Rachel’s eyes widened. “What?”
    “Troy wants me to prove that the test was wrong or fixed or whatever.”
    “You?”
    “My reaction exactly.”
    She shook her head. “Wow.”
    “So?”
    “I don’t know,” she said. “I never knew him to cheat. He was overly competitive, for sure. He has a lot of pressure on him and, yeah, maybe he’s been acting out more. But a cheater? I don’t think so.”
    Ema came out and Rachel went in. A few minutes later, Rachel exited the room. We were all going to leave together, but I told them that I needed to stay behind with Spoon for a while. They understood and started home.
    I entered Spoon’s room nervously, but he immediately put me at ease. We laughed a lot. Life was funny, I thought. The most poignant moments always ended up being the most mixed. I had a great time with Spoon even while my heart broke. Laughter can be more intense when it’s blended with tears.
    It was getting late, but I didn’t want to leave him. I texted Uncle Myron and explained what was going on. He understood: I’ll pick you up when you’re done. Don’t worry about the hour.
    I told him not to wait up—that I’d walk—and then I turned off the phone before he could argue. Time passed. Spoon put a sitcom on the television. At some point, I realized that he had stopped speaking, which was something that never happened. I turned toward him.
    Spoon had fallen asleep.
    I watched him. Lots of emotions passed through me. I didn’t stop or analyze them. I just let them flow through. I felt my eyes grow heavy. I decided that I would close them for a minute, no more, and then I would make sure Spoon was okay and head home. That was my plan anyway. Rest the eyes for a second.
    I don’t know how much time passed. It may have been an hour. It may have been more. I was dreaming about the car accident that killed my father, the sound of brakes screeching, the crunch of impact, the way my body flew. I saw my father lying on the ground, bleeding, his eyes closed, and that paramedic, that damn paramedic with the sandy-blond hair and green eyes, meeting my eye . . .
    A hand touched my shoulder.
    “Mickey?”
    My blood went cold. I jerked awake. I was back in Spoon’s hospital room. It was dark. He was asleep. The hand was still on my shoulder. I turned in my chair and looked up at the silhouette of the nurse. Except of course it wasn’t a nurse. I knew that the moment I heard her voice.
    It was the Bat Lady.

CHAPTER 16
    I had a million questions to ask her.
    Bat Lady kept her hand on my shoulder. The hand was bony with liver spots and thick veins. I knew that she had to be well into her eighties by now. She looked it. And I knew that I should stop thinking of her as Bat Lady. Her real name was Elizabeth “Lizzy” Sobek. Her whole family died during the Holocaust, but young Lizzy had saved a group of children from certain death in a Polish concentration camp. After that, the famous teen became a resistance fighter against the Nazi occupation.
    No one heard from her again.
    Most history books believe that she’d been killed during World War II.
    Most