{"product_id":"two-girls-down-isbn-9780525433750","title":"Two Girls Down","description":"\u003cb\u003eA riveting thriller about the search for two missing girls in a small Pennsylvania town.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Opening this book is like arming a bomb—the suspense is relentless and the payoff is spectacular.” —Lee Child, #1 \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eThe Midnight Line\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhen two young sisters, Kylie and Bailey Brandt, disappear from a strip mall parking lot in a small Pennsylvania town, their devastated family hires an enigmatic bounty hunter from California, Alice Vega, to do what the authorities cannot. Immediately shut out by a local police department already stretched thin by budget cuts and the growing OxyContin and meth epidemics, Vega enlists the help of a disgraced former cop, Max Caplan, to cut through the local politics.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWith little to go on, Vega and Cap will go to extraordinary lengths to untangle a complex web of lies, false leads, and dangerous relationships to locate both girls before time runs out and the girls are gone forever.\"Sensational...One of the book’s great pleasures is seeing Caplan and Vega’s initially testy entanglement develop into a true partnership. But there are many other aspects in Ms. Luna’s story to savor as well: a host of sharply sketched characters, from spaced-out dopers to distraught parents and grandparents; action sequences startling in their sudden violence; and quick psychological revelations that pierce the heart.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cb\u003e--Wall Street Journal\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Opening this book is like arming a bomb--the suspense is relentless and the payoff is spectacular.  Lead character Alice Vega is sensational--I want to see lots more of her.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e--Lee Child, #1 \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eThe Midnight Line\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"A real nail-biter...The brisk plot combines psychological suspense with solid action, while providing a realistic look at a family under siege, as it builds to a shocking finale.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003e--Publishers Weekly \u003c\/i\u003e(starred)\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"An outstanding neo-noir, introducing enigmatic bounty hunter Alice Vega, a perfect female incarnation of Jack Reacher...Vega springs to life in the hands of this immensely talented writer...This is a must-read for fans of strong female protagonists\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003e--Booklist \u003c\/i\u003e(starred)\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Ripe for optioning…a winter title to watch.”\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003e--Hollywood Reporter\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"From its haunting opening to the pulse-pounding final sequences, \u003ci\u003eTwo Girls Down\u003c\/i\u003e delivers a gripping read. Alice Vega and Max Caplan are characters I'd follow anywhere, and Louisa Luna is a writer to watch. Highly recommended.\"\u003cbr\u003e--\u003cb\u003eMichael Koryta, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eThose Who Wish Me Dead\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e“This is such a terrific read. High stakes, relationship-driven, perfectly paced.  \u003ci\u003eTwo Girls Down\u003c\/i\u003e has something else worth noting: three dimensional female characters. Alice Vega could give Jack Reacher a run for his money.  Maybe Louisa Luna should write all the thrillers.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e--Chelsea Cain, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eHeartsick\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Louisa Luna is an incredibly talented writer with a bewitching gift for storytelling, and \u003ci\u003eTwo Girls Down\u003c\/i\u003e fairly crackles with energy and suspense from the first page to the last.  I can't ever recall a time before now that I lost sleep as a result of reading a crime thriller. This one, I just could not put down.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e--Donald Ray Pollock, author of \u003ci\u003eThe Devil All the Time\u003c\/i\u003e \u0026amp; \u003ci\u003eThe Heavenly Table\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"To the pantheon of unforgettable noir detectives, add Louisa Luna's bounty hunter Alice Vega and her partner, PI Max Caplan, one of the best and most original duos to grace crime fiction in many years. \u003ci\u003eTwo Girls Down \u003c\/i\u003eis a breathlessly gripping journey into the dark heart of America: I couldn't put it down.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e—Elizabeth Hand, author of \u003ci\u003eGeneration Loss \u003c\/i\u003eand \u003ci\u003eHard Light\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Louisa Luna has written a knockout, read-it-in-one-sitting novel with \u003ci\u003eTwo Girls Down. \u003c\/i\u003eGripping, emotional, and tautly written, with a wonderful cast of memorable characters.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e—Jeff Abbott, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eAdrenaline\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003eLouisa Luna is the author of the novels \u003ci\u003eBrave New Girl\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eCrooked\u003c\/i\u003e, and \u003ci\u003eSerious As A Heart Attack\u003c\/i\u003e. She was born and raised in the city of San Francisco and lives in Brooklyn with her husband and daughter.***This excerpt is from an advance uncorrected copy proof*** \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eCopyright © 2018 Louisa Luna\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e     Jamie Brandt was not a bad mother. Later she would tell that to anyone who would listen: police, reporters, lawyers, her parents, her boyfriend, her dealer, the new bartender with the knuckle tattoos at Schultz’s, the investigator from California and her partner, and her own reflection in the bathroom mirror, right before cracking her forehead on the sink’s edge and passing out from the cocktail of pain, grief, and fear.\u003cbr\u003e     She was not a bad mother, even though she’d yelled at them that morning. It was Saturday, finally, and Jamie was embarrassed to say sometimes she liked the weekdays more, the predictable rhythm of her aunt Maggie’s real estate office where she was the receptionist, the chance to drink coffee and read \u003ci\u003eUs \u003c\/i\u003emagazine online, thinking of the girls in school, which they actually liked for the most part. Kylie, the ten-year-old, might piss and moan over homework, but she loved the day-to-day operations of school—the hurricane of note passing and gossip. She was already popular, had already stolen makeup from Jamie’s top dresser drawer and sent texts to boys from Jamie’s phone. Bailey, eight, was just as sassy but loved school for the school part, read­ing and writing—especially vocabulary, the way words sounded and the rules that went with them.\u003cbr\u003e     The weekends were hectic, a blur of soccer games and ballet prac­tice, playdates and every last minute crammed with errands: grocer­ies, cooking, pharmacy (Kylie’s allergies, Bailey’s asthma), cleaning the apartment, dusting and Swiffering every surface to avoid allergies and asthma. And then meltdowns and screaming protests about the rules: one hour on the computer for non-school-related activities, half an hour of video games, one hour of TV, all of which would be broken by Sunday night. Jamie would have to beg them to go to the housing com­plex playground, which the girls claimed was old, dirty, with two out of five swings broken and a sandbox that smelled like pee.\u003cbr\u003e     All Jamie wanted was to get to Saturday night. Then Darrell would come over and maybe the girls would go somewhere for a sleepover, or to Nana and Papa’s. Maybe Jamie would let them play video games for a bonus hour in their room and take pictures with her phone just so she and Darrell could drink some beers and watch a movie that didn’t feature a chipmunk or a princess. And if the girls weren’t there, maybe they’d smoke a joint; maybe his hand would slide up her shirt and they’d end up naked on the couch, Jamie looking at him on top, thinking he is not perfect, he has funny teeth and always wears that leather jacket with the hole in the pit, but there are a few good qualities here. One large good quality: she would think and then she’d laugh, and Darrell would say, “What?” but then he’d laugh too.\u003cbr\u003e     But first, errands and then a birthday party for all of them. It was for a girl in Kylie’s class, but it was one of those parties to which every­one was invited—siblings and parents for pizza, games, and cake in the family’s big ranch-style house in a new development called The Knolls. Jamie didn’t like the trend, these big free-for-all events, was worried because Kylie’s birthday was in June and maybe she’d want the same thing. Jamie saw the problems coming at her like headlights: their apartment was too small for a party, her mother would never let her hear the end of it if she asked to have it at her parents’ place, and the money, all that money, for that many pizzas plus gifts plus a new dress for Kylie and the new dress Bailey would have to have too.\u003cbr\u003e     “Why do you guys even have to come in?” said Kylie from the pas­senger side, eyebrows wrinkled up over her big hot-cocoa eyes, a sneer in her angel lips.\u003cbr\u003e     “Fine, we’ll wait outside in the car,” said Jamie.\u003cbr\u003e     “Everyone will see us,” said Bailey from the backseat, anxious.\u003cbr\u003e     Jamie looked in the rearview, taking in Bailey’s face, a palette of worry. How can she care so much about what other people think already? thought Jamie. She didn’t want the girls to care; she missed the days when they were too little to worry about appearances or be embarrassed, back when they would streak like hippies before jumping into the tub.\u003cbr\u003e     “We’re not waiting in the car, Kylie,” said Jamie. “Hey—won’t Stella Piper be there with her family? Bailey can play with Owen.”\u003cbr\u003e     From the corner of her eye Jamie saw her shrug, and felt the weight of it.\u003cbr\u003e     “They’re not friends anymore,” said Bailey.\u003cbr\u003e     “They’re not?” Jamie said to Bailey. “You’re not?” she said to Kylie.\u003cbr\u003e     “Why can’t you shut up?” Kylie said, craning her head around the seat to glare at her sister.\u003cbr\u003e     “Mom!” shouted Bailey, pointing.\u003cbr\u003e     “I heard it, Bailey.” To Kylie: “Don’t talk like that to your sister. Why aren’t you friends with Stella Piper anymore?”\u003cbr\u003e     Another shrug.\u003cbr\u003e     “She thinks Stella’s dumb. And her glasses are funny,” Bailey reported. “She says they make her look like a creature.”\u003cbr\u003e     “She’s been your friend forever, since you were in kindergarten,” said Jamie.\u003cbr\u003e     “I know,” said Kylie, hushed and hissing.\u003cbr\u003e     Jamie stopped third in a trail of cars at a light and said, “You shouldn’t be mean to someone just because they look funny.”\u003cbr\u003e     Kylie stared out the window.\u003cbr\u003e     “Someday someone might think you look funny, and then how’ll you like it?”\u003cbr\u003e     Kylie kept staring.\u003cbr\u003e     “Well?” Jamie took Kylie’s chin in her hand and turned her head. “Well?”\u003cbr\u003e     “I won’t like it.”\u003cbr\u003e     Jamie let go and looked up to see a policeman directing all the cars in her lane to the left.\u003cbr\u003e     “What’s this now?” said Jamie.\u003cbr\u003e     Bailey looked up over the seat.\u003cbr\u003e     “What is it? What’s happening?”\u003cbr\u003e     “I don’t know, for God’s sake,” said Jamie.\u003cbr\u003e     She pulled up even with the cop and rolled down the window.\u003cbr\u003e     “I need to go straight ahead to the Gulf on Branford.” \u003cbr\u003e     “Branford? That side of the highway’s closed for the parade, Miss,” said the cop.\u003cbr\u003e     “Fuck me,” Jamie said, remembering.\u003cbr\u003e     Spring Fest. The town’s annual parade of toilet-paper-covered floats and high school bands slogging their way through “My Girl.”\u003cbr\u003e     “Mom!” the kids shouted, embarrassed.\u003cbr\u003e     “Well, Officer, I’m about to run outta gas, so what do you recommend?”\u003cbr\u003e     The cop leaned into her window.\u003cbr\u003e     “Tell you what, I’ll wave you through to St. Cloud; then you can take a right to Route 1080 and you can get to the Hess over that way.”\u003cbr\u003e     Jamie pictured the route in her head and nodded. “That’d be just great, thanks.”\u003cbr\u003e     “No problem, ma’am,” said the cop, tapping the roof of the car.\u003cbr\u003e     Jamie drove the path laid out for her by the cop.\u003cbr\u003e     “I can’t believe you said the f-curse to the police,” said Kylie, a look of quiet shame on her face.\u003cbr\u003e     “I’m full of surprises,” said Jamie.\u003cbr\u003e     “Can we go past the parade? Miss Ferno’s on a float from her church,” said Bailey.\u003cbr\u003e     “What? No, we’re already late for this thing,” said Jamie.\u003cbr\u003e     She glanced at both of them. They stared out the window. Someday you’ll think I’m funny, she thought. Someday you’ll tell your friends, No, my mom’s cool. Once she said “Fuck me” right in front of a cop.\u003cbr\u003e     Finally, when they got to the Hess, Kylie asked, “Can we split a Reese’s?”\u003cbr\u003e     She had yet to outgrow an unwavering devotion to sugar—she would pour maple syrup over Frosted Flakes if you turned your head the other way.\u003cbr\u003e     “No, you’re going to have all kinds of crap at this party; you don’t need a Reese’s.”\u003cbr\u003e     Then the wailing began—you’d think someone was pricking their cuticles with sewing needles. Jamie held her head and leaned over the wheel, thinking she should have smoked the very last bit of resin in the pipe this morning. She didn’t like to drive stoned, but there wasn’t enough in there to mess her up proper, just enough to help her push through, get to the party where it might be acceptable to have a light beer at noon. \u003cbr\u003e     “Enough, stop it!” yelled Jamie, feeling her voice crack, the muscles in her neck tense up. “Fine, go get a goddamn Reese’s. Get me a coffee with a Splenda, please.”\u003cbr\u003e     She threw a five in Kylie’s lap.\u003cbr\u003e     “Go before I change my mind,” she said.\u003cbr\u003e     The girls unbuckled their seat belts and scrambled out of the car. Jamie watched them run into the mini-mart, heard the clicks of their dress‑up shoes. She checked her makeup in the mirror and shook her head at herself, then went out to the pumps.\u003cbr\u003e     She continued to shake her head, thought, Jesus Christ, do I ever sound like her—her own mother, Gail—“Before I change my mind” and all those threats. First you swear you’ll never be like your mother; then you find yourself sending them to their room and grounding them, and occasionally, once in a while, you hit them once or twice too hard on the back after they say something rude.\u003cbr\u003e     Jamie got back in the car and blew air into her hands. Spring Fest my ass, she thought. It was the end of March and still freezing in the mornings and at night, although they’d had more than a few hazy warm days the past two months that fooled everyone into thinking spring was really here; even the black cherry trees were confused—fruit had prematurely formed on the branches, then iced over and broke off the next week in a storm.\u003cbr\u003e     The girls had been in the store a long time.\u003cbr\u003e     Jamie looked at the time on her phone. 11:32 a.m. They still had to go to Kmart for a gift for Kylie’s friend, which meant they would argue about the under-ten-dollar rule, then engage in negotiations until they got to an under-ten-dollar-without-tax agreement. If there was time, maybe Jamie could browse for something for her aunt Maggie, whose birthday was coming up. Maggie was fond of her, and Jamie didn’t really know why—maybe because she admired Jamie’s pluck, maybe because she’d been a single mother herself after Uncle Stu had left her for a girl in a massage parlor twenty years ago, and she knew how rough it was. Maybe because it was a way to piss off her sister, Jamie’s mother, which she enjoyed doing for a list of reasons either one would tell you all about if you asked them. Jamie ultimately didn’t care about the details since Aunt Maggie had cleaned up in the divorce and got her real estate agent’s license in short order, owned half a dozen homes in the Poconos that she rented out to vacationers, and brokered deals between buyers and the new developments surrounding Denville.\u003cbr\u003e     “Goddammit,” said Jamie.\u003cbr\u003e     She got out of the car and jogged into the mini-mart, scanned the inside quickly and saw only one other person—a man, looking at a porn magazine.\u003cbr\u003e     “Hey,” she said to the fat boy behind the counter. He seemed too old for the braces on his teeth.\u003cbr\u003e     He jumped.\u003cbr\u003e     “You see two girls in here?”\u003cbr\u003e     “Yeah. They went to the bathroom in back.”\u003cbr\u003e     Jamie did not say thank you, walked past the guy with the porn and out the back door. She saw Kylie leaning against the cinder block wall, holding a Reese’s cup between her thumb and forefinger like a teacup.\u003cbr\u003e     “What the hell, Kylie?” said Jamie.\u003cbr\u003e     “She had to pee. She said it was an emergency.”\u003cbr\u003e     Jamie stormed past, rapped on the bathroom door and said, “Bailey, come on, let’s move it.”\u003cbr\u003e     “I’m washing my hands,” said Bailey from inside.\u003cbr\u003e     “You’re done. Let’s go.”\u003cbr\u003e     “I’m trying not to touch anything.”\u003cbr\u003e     Jamie almost smiled. She had been trying to teach them to line the toilet seat with paper towels, hover above the bowl, and turn the faucets on and off with their elbows in public bathrooms.\u003cbr\u003e     “I have Purell in the car. Come on.”\u003cbr\u003e     The door opened and Bailey came out. She looked at her mother and covered her mouth with her hands.\u003cbr\u003e     “We forgot the coffee!”\u003cbr\u003e     “It’s okay,” said Jamie. “Let’s go.”\u003cbr\u003e     They went back to the car and drove to the Ridgewood Mall without speaking, Kylie staring out the window, Bailey reading her school work­book. Jamie glanced at both of them and thought they looked nice. Bai­ley in a pink princess dress, Kylie in a black dress with a purple flower print and the sweetheart neckline that was a little too old for her, Jamie thought, but since it was a hand-me-down from her cousin, she could not complain. They are both so big, she thought, which makes me so old.\u003cbr\u003e     The parking lot was surprisingly not crowded, the first three or four rows of the grid full but that was it. God bless Spring Fest, Jamie thought.\u003cbr\u003e     “So what does Arianna want?”\u003cbr\u003e     “Aren’t we coming in?” said Kylie, shocked.\u003cbr\u003e     “No way. I’m going in and out.”\u003cbr\u003e     “Come on. That’s so unfair!” they both said.\u003cbr\u003e     “Deal with it,” said Jamie. “What does she like?”\u003cbr\u003e     Kylie sighed. “She wants a sleeping bag.”\u003cbr\u003e     “I’m not buying her a sleeping bag. Does she like jewelry?”\u003cbr\u003e     Kylie nodded.\u003cbr\u003e     “Great. I’ll get her some bracelets.”\u003cbr\u003e     Jamie looked through her purse for her phone and her wallet, left the key in the ignition so the heat would stay on.\u003cbr\u003e     “Can we at least listen to music?” said Kylie.\u003cbr\u003e     “Yes, you can. I’ll be back in five minutes.”\u003cbr\u003e     Jamie got out and was about to slam the door when Bailey said, “Mom?”\u003cbr\u003e     “What?”\u003cbr\u003e     She looked up from her book and said, “Do you know you call a group of lions a pride, not a pack?”\u003cbr\u003e     Jamie stared at her, then at Kylie, who rolled her eyes.\u003cbr\u003e     “No, baby, I didn’t know that.”\u003cbr\u003e     She shut the door and left them.\u003cbr\u003e     Into the calm, controlled air of Kmart, pop music from ten years ago in her ears, she forced herself to stay focused. If she didn’t have a list, she had trouble concentrating in big box stores, got distracted by displays and sales. That was the point, wasn’t it, she thought, to turn you into a kid again who sees something shiny and wants it. When the girls were with her, a ten-minute trip turned into thirty minutes easily, everyone leaving with candy and gum and a tank top.\u003cbr\u003e     Jamie went to the toy aisles, skimmed over the bright boxes and tubes and balls to the girls section, Make-Your-Own-Headband, Home Manicure Kit, Bead-a-Necklace—she picked that one up; it was $9.99. You got lucky today, Arianna.\u003cbr\u003e     She made her way to the cards and wrapping paper, grabbed a pink gift bag with tissue paper already lined inside and a white card dangling from the handle. \u003cbr\u003e     Then on her way to the checkout she stopped when she saw a sheer cowl-necked sweater on a sale rack. The tag read $21.99. Nope. At the register, she checked her phone (11:55). Oh who cares, she thought. It doesn’t matter if you’re late to this kind of thing; it’s an open house. Suddenly she felt relaxed, realized her hands were in fists, holding the strings of the gift bag hostage in her fingers. The day opened up in front of her. The party would eat up a couple of hours, then maybe they’d stop by her parents’ place, then she could pick up McDonald’s for dinner, and then they could waste time until Darrell came over and she could send them to her room and let them watch TV in her bed. It didn’t seem that bad when she thought of it that way. Just some hours to fill. She paid, picked up her bag, and left. Into the parking lot, back to her car, she sped up. Confused at first, she thought, This is my car. Checked the dent in the fender, the plate. No girls. I’m going to kill them, she thought, took a breath too quickly and coughed, started talking to them in her head. Don’t even tell me you can’t tie it in a knot till we get to the fucking party, Bailey. Or you, was this your idea? she thought, picturing Kylie’s face. You and your sweet tooth, looking for free samples. Jamie looked around at the stores: Reno’s Coffee, Morgan House-wares, StoneField Ice Cream. She ran to the latter, coughing like she was a smoker, entered through the doors. It was quiet and cold inside. A woman and two little boys and a baby in a car seat sat in a booth. The girl behind the counter had a ring in her lip. “You see two girls come in here?” said Jamie. “Yeah, they were just in here.” For a second they stared at each other. “So where are they?” said Jamie. Lip Ring shrugged. “How should I know? They left a few minutes ago.” Jamie could feel the blood rush in her chest. She started to leave, then turned back and said, “Lemme ask you something: How the fuck do you eat with that thing in your face?” She left and slammed the door before she could hear the answer. Then Reno’s Coffee— a couple, a man post-workout, everyone on his phone. \u003cbr\u003e     “Did you see two girls in party dresses?” she asked the people behind the counter. “Eight and ten years old. Did they come in to use the bath­room?” Then to the couple and the man: “Did you see two girls?”\u003cbr\u003e     They all said no.\u003cbr\u003e     She left, looked back at her car, still empty.\u003cbr\u003e     Then Morgan Housewares, Global Market, Eastern Sports. By the time she got back to Kmart it was 12:11, and the fear had become a rock in her throat.\u003cbr\u003e     “I can’t find my girls,” she said to the security guard. She put her hand to her lips after she said it, like she was trying to get the words back.\u003cbr\u003e     “Did you lose them in the store, ma’am?” he said. His double chin was strangled by his uniform shirt.\u003cbr\u003e     “No, they were in the car. I was in here. Now they’re gone.”\u003cbr\u003e     “We can page them in the store,” he said.\u003cbr\u003e     “They’re not in the store. I was in the store.”\u003cbr\u003e     “Maybe they came in to look for you,” he said.\u003cbr\u003e     “Yeah, okay. Yes, please, page them.”\u003cbr\u003e     She was standing in Customer Service with Geri the Customer Ser­vice Liaison and two other security guards when she heard the guard with the double chin’s voice say her daughters’ names: “Kylie Brandt, Bailey Brandt, please come to the Customer Service Center.”\u003cbr\u003e     Jamie watched people emerge from the aisles, calm, bored. It was not their daughters’ names in the air.\u003cbr\u003e     “You have bathrooms? Where are the bathrooms?” she said.\u003cbr\u003e     Geri pointed to the left.\u003cbr\u003e     “You can hear the loudspeaker in there too,” she said. Jamie couldn’t even see this woman; her face was a smudge with dull gray spots in the middle.\u003cbr\u003e     Jamie ran now through the white aisles, hearing the sound of her own wheezing and rationalizations as she talked to herself, “She had to pee, Bailey had to pee. Maybe one of them got sick from that Reese’s.”\u003cbr\u003e     She threw herself onto the door and into the bathroom, knocked on and pushed open every stall. A woman with a walker and a younger woman stood at the sinks.\u003cbr\u003e     “Did you see two girls? I can’t find my girls.”\u003cbr\u003e     The woman with the walker appeared not to understand. The younger woman said, “No, what did they look like?” \u003cbr\u003e     “They’re wearing dresses,” Jamie said, and ran out again, to the front of the store.\u003cbr\u003e     She passed the security guards and Geri, and now a small crowd of people looking and talking, to the front doors where she exited, ran into the parking lot, back to her car, which was still empty. She hit the hood with her hand and ran back to the store, where more people stood, watching her.\u003cbr\u003e     The face of a man with a mustache blurred in front of her, next to the guard with the double chin.\u003cbr\u003e     “Ma’am, I put out a Code Adam alert for the entire mall and called the police. Do you want to sit down?”\u003cbr\u003e     Jamie didn’t understand the words he said. He held out his hand, to guide her inside to a cushioned folding chair, where someone would bring her a glass of water.\u003cbr\u003e     Jamie didn’t take it. She dug her fingernails into her scalp and whis­pered, “My girls . . . my girls.”","brand":"Anchor","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46305253916901,"sku":"NP9780525433750","price":23.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780525433750.jpg?v=1767743086","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/two-girls-down-isbn-9780525433750","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}