What Comes After

t h r e e

Harper's POV

I slumped down into a bus seat, panting. "Hard day?" Asked the man next to me. I nodded. I really wasn't in the mood to engage in conversation, especially not with strangers. I would just go back to the manor, drop off the painting and leave.

In my pocket, my phone buzzed. It was a call from Catie. I always kept my phone on silent; I didn't want it ringing in the middle of a chase, or giving away my hiding spot to a criminal.

I answered the phone.

"Hi," said Catie. "You'll never guess what happened this morning."

"Mm?"

"A woman recognized me on TV, and..."

I cut in. "Well done on the competition, by the way!" I realized how loudly I was speaking. The couple sitting across from me were staring.

"Thanks," she replied. "But that's not what I'm calling about. I know where Laurel is."

I didn't try to hide my expression of shock, making the nice man next to me look extremely confused. Laurel? Catie's missing twin sister? This was incredible. "Ok," I said, as calmly as I could muster. "Where are you?"

I hung up the phone and stared out of the bus window. I had agreed to meet Catie at the train station. We were going to Catalina Island, and I would need a little help.

Ding-dong!

Nikki's eye appeared through the peephole. "Hello?"

"Hi," I said. "Tell your mum you'll be back soon. There's no time to explain."

I walked with Nikki to the bus, telling her the evening's curious events. She, being Nikki, did not seemed surprised in the slightest. After all, she had seen some pretty weird things herself.

We arrived at the station and settled down in a Starbucks - always the best option.

A few minutes of staring into space later, I noticed Nikki's bag move slightly.

"Hey," I said. "Is your phone ringing?"

"Oh." She looked surprised for a second, as though she had just realised something. "That would be Gary."

I instinctively assumed that Gary was the person calling her.

Oh, how wrong I was.

Nikki's POV

It's 9 in the evening. The crowds are starting to clear; lucky for us. Harper and I have been sitting in Starbucks for the past half hour. I've had 6 lattes and a muffin so far. Harper has had nothing – she's apparently saving money for the journey. I honestly don't care about that sort of stuff. Both of my feet have fallen asleep, and my neck is aching, but the walk we're about to do should probably sort that out. In my pocket, Gary is snuffling.

That's a nice word. Snuffling... Snuffling... Relaxing, huh?

"Don't get caught," Harper reminds me for the sixteenth – (seventeenth?) - time.

I nod.

"Whatever you do, don't get caught."

Make that eighteenth.

"Okay, okay!" I burst out. "I understand! I won't get caught. I can manage that. I think." I bite my lip – an old habit.

"Good," Harper replies with a smirk, "because did I tell you that the number one rule of sneaking is not getting caught?"

She chews her pen, the reporter's one she always carries around. I stare at the ground. It makes sense, her confidence, after everything her dad had been through. Why would sneaking through a train station at night scare a girl like Harper? Having a father in the army has given Harper a sense of vibrancy. She could do practically anything, let alone this. It doesn't matter to her. For me, well... I'm not like Harper. Not at all – plus, we can't just leave Gary here.

Ok, so let me explain. I might have found a fugitive aardvark, and brought him to my house, and told an angry RSPCA officer that no, I had not seen any small aardvarks about that big or that wide, and no, I had not seen any small aardvarks wandering the streets.

I put my feet on the table, stroking Gary underneath my coat. Poor little guy must be hungry. What do aardvarks eat anyway?

Harper looks at me, and mutters "Nikki, don't get caught."

"Ok."

"And look out for the robber. I bet he's here somewhere." She squints into the distance. "He can't have just abandoned a £2000 painting..."

"What if he has?" I almost shout. "What if he has given up and gone back to wherever he came from? What if all of your stupid paranoia is for nothing, because he's gone, he's not chasing us any more? Can't I just have a break from all of this? No. Because YOU just keep running from someone who probably isn't even anywhere near here. We both deserve a break from all this NONSENSE. He couldn't have POSSIBLY tracked you this far."

Harper stares. I never shout. I'm always the laid back one, the one who doesn't care. I'm the dumb one. She does the talking - and now I think I understand why. With a sigh, I turn away and close my eyes. This is going to be a long afternoon, and the station's lack of air conditioning will not help in the least.