Forget Me Not. A. M. Taylor

loss, waiting for the ice to break under my weight and for me to fall through the frigid water below. I still couldn’t believe it, that all this was happening again, that Elle was gone, that Elle had been murdered. It felt ripped from the pages of a horror movie script, and yet I knew it had to be real because it all felt so familiar. I hated how used to grief Nora’s disappearance had made me, but I still wasn’t sure I was ready to confront the reality of Elle’s death, because doing so would chip away at my memories of her that were already starting to dim and distort.

      The body.

      The words echoed in my head and I shivered involuntarily as Ange said: “Mads, you want to see the photo?”

      I could have said no, of course, but I didn’t want to give up so easily. Elle—a lot like Nora—had often demanded attention, and if there was any time she deserved it, it was now. So, I nodded yes, and Ange flipped her iPhone towards me after scrolling through her photos. I stared down at the screen.

      “Does this mean anything to you? The symbol?” she asked.

      The photo was taken at a strange angle, Willard obviously having tried his best to get the clearest shot, but all I could really make out was a symbol drawn into the snow the way a child does. It was the image of what looked like a compass, except that where the four points should have read N, S, E, W, every single one pointed to an “N.” I stayed looking down at it for what must have been a long time because after a while Ange had to clear her throat just to get my attention.

      “You all right, Mads?” she asked.

      “Yeah—” my voice caught on the word and I took a gulp of coffee. “Yeah.” I passed the phone back towards Ange. “It’s that compass thing the Altmans have at their lake house. Their granddad made it when Noah was born, remember?”

      “What?”

      “The symbol. It’s a copy of the ‘N’ compass at their lake house. You don’t recognize it? All of the ‘Ns’ represent one of the kids, right?” I traced my finger around the outside of the circle. “See? Nate, Nora, Noelle, Noah.”

      “Shit, I didn’t even think of that. And we were just at the lake house on Sunday.”

      She shrank down into her booth with a heavy sigh as Ruby the waitress deposited our breakfasts in front of us. I smiled up in thanks and noticed her glancing quizzically down at the phone in Ange’s hand. Ange quickly made the screen go dark and said: “Thanks, Ruby.”

      “You girls need anythin’ else?” Ruby asked.

      “Just more coffee, please.”

      “Sure, you want me to keep it coming?”

      We both nodded and with that Ruby went off to get us more coffee. Ange deposited the contents of her fruit cup over her waffles and then poured over at least three quarters of her jug of maple syrup. I watched as she began cutting up the waffles, adding blueberries and sliced strawberry to the forkful and then swirling it around in a pool of syrup.

      “What do you think the significance is?” she asked as her dangerously loaded fork wavered towards her mouth.

      I looked down to focus on my own plate, breaking off a piece of crispy bacon with my fingers and distractedly dipping it into my jug of syrup. I couldn’t get the words “the body” out of my mind. It was ricocheting off everything else I heard or thought, tainting everything, draining the world of meaning.

      “I don’t know,” I said softly, wishing that I did. We were both quiet for a while until I asked: “So, did you get your article finished?”

      She looked up sharply, her brown eyes coming into focus on me before she swallowed her mouthful of waffle and said: “Well, it’s my job, right?”

      “I’m not judging you, Ange. Just wanted to know if you met your deadline.”

      Ange flattened her lips into a straight line, picking up her phone again and looking for something on it. “It should be up by now,” she said. “Yeah, here we go. You want to read it?”

      I nodded, reaching for her phone again and leaning back in the booth to read her article. As I did so a white noise roar screamed inside my head, drowning out the rest of the diner.

       CHAPTER FIVE

       Madison Journal

      Teen Girl Murdered in Small Town

      By Angela Cairney

       January 9, 2018

      The body of a 17-year-old girl, Noelle Altman, was found just outside Forest View close to the side of the road just off Old Highway 51 in the early hours of yesterday morning, January 8th. She is believed to have died between the hours of 8 p.m. on January 7th when she was last seen and 7 a.m. on January 8th when she was found by a local woman who drove past and noticed an abandoned car.

      Noelle was the sister of Nora Altman who has been missing from Forest View since January 8th, 2008 when her car was found abandoned in the same spot by a local police officer. As with the disappearance of Nora Altman, the police currently have no leads as to the murder of Noelle Altman, and are asking that anyone with any pertinent information to please step forward. They do not think the two incidents are connected and a spokesperson has revealed that the possibility of suicide has been completely ruled out.

      The Altman family have requested peace and understanding at this time, and our condolences and heartfelt thoughts go out to them as they deal with this tragedy.

      It was a short article, and I read it quickly, drinking in the few facts Ange had managed to glean from somewhere. What time Elle was found, when she was believed to have died, the exact location she was found. It was all relevant, pertinent, and yet it didn’t feel real. How could I be reading about Elle?

      “The same spot,” I said, lingering over that detail. “How close was it exactly to where Nora’s car was found?”

      Ange raised her eyebrows. “Really close. Willard said her body was a little ways off in the woods, but you could see the road still. The car was right by where the ribbon is.”

      I reached for my coffee, as if going to drink some, but couldn’t lift it to my lips. Sometimes, when I closed my eyes, I could still see the headlines and photographs that filled the newspapers in the days and months after Nora’s disappearance. But that little patch of land where her car had been found existed somewhere inside me, desolate and snowy, even in the summer when the sun managed to warm my skin and my mind managed to crawl its way out of a perpetual winter. For Elle to have been found there—to have been left, abandoned there, as if she were nothing but a scrap to be discarded and forgotten—gave shape to her death in a way I hadn’t anticipated. Whoever had done this may as well have placed Elle within the chalk outline of the body Nora had never left behind.

       CHAPTER SIX

       Wisconsin Daily News

      Family Fears for Missing Teen

      By Gloria Lewis

       January 15, 2008

      It’s been seven days since Wisconsin teenager Nora Altman went missing from the small town of Forest View, and her family is concerned. “This isn’t like Nora,” her father, attorney Jonathan Altman, said at a press conference held in nearby Waterstone last night. “She has never left home without telling either her family or friends where she is going, and we are very, very worried that something terrible has happened to our wonderful girl. We remain hopeful that she is somewhere, healthy and alive, and if that is the case then Nora, please come back to us. Please get in touch. With anyone. To anyone who may have taken her, may have hurt her … I beg you, please