Read Online All That's Missing by Sarah Sullivan - Free Book Online

be back,” he whispered. “I promise.”
    This time Arlo thought he saw Poppo’s hand move, as if he were telling him,
Go on. Hurry.
    He kissed his grandfather on the cheek and slipped silently out of the room.
    It was just past eight in the morning. Visiting time was beginning, so there were people milling about. No one noticed Arlo, though his heart thumped wildly as he made his way across the lounge, toward the door beside the restrooms, and then quickly down the stairs.
    If Miss Hasslebarger caught him, there would be no escape. Arlo needed to make a clean break
now.
    He burst through the door to the parking lot, only to discover a security guard headed straight toward him.
    â€œMorning, son.” The guard gave Arlo a nod.
    â€œMorning.” Arlo nearly choked on the word, fearing the guard would stop him.
    But he didn’t. So Arlo kept moving.
    He walked all the way through the parking lot and across the street. Then he started running again. The bus station was less than a quarter mile away.
    From a block away, the bus station looked like a crazy spaceship, with its Plexiglas awning and steel girders. Inside, the air was hazy with dust that sparkled when the light hit it, like mica in granite. Arlo took a deep breath and walked straight to the ticket counter. The ticket agent was a skinny man with horn-rimmed glasses that magnified his eyes.
    â€œCan I help you?” he asked.
    â€œI need a ticket to Edgewater, please.”
    The man lifted his glasses, kneading the red spots where the frames rested on his nose. “What state’s that in?”
    â€œVirginia,” Arlo said.
    â€œRound-trip or one-way?”
    â€œRound-trip, please.”
    The man looked at him for a minute. Arlo held his breath. Why was he hesitating? Finally, the man punched some buttons on his computer. Arlo relaxed a bit.
    â€œThe nearest station is Richmond,” he said. “There’s a bus at eight fifty. Gets you there at six twelve. You change at Wytheville.”
    â€œHow much?” Arlo asked.
    The man checked his screen. “A hundred and twenty dollars,” he said.
    Arlo’s stomach tightened. “How much for one-way?”
    â€œEighty-five,” the man said.
    Arlo pulled out the plastic bag with the money from Mrs. Rader and what was left of his lawn-mowing cash.
    The man put up his hand. “Just a minute,” he said. “You have to get the adult who’s traveling with you to buy the ticket. You know that, right?”
    â€œRight,” Arlo said, struggling to maintain his composure.
    â€œYou
do
have an adult traveling with you, don’t you?” The man leaned over the counter, glancing around the waiting area.
    â€œSure. Right over there.” Arlo jerked his head toward the orange seats where the passengers were waiting for their buses to be called. There were a couple of ladies who looked about the right age to be his mom.
    The ticket agent studied Arlo’s face. He checked the passengers in the orange seats. Arlo held his breath, waiting for the man to speak.
    â€œTell her the bus leaves in twenty minutes,” he said at last. “She’ll need to come up here and purchase the tickets. It’s number seventy-three.”
    â€œThanks.”
    â€œYou’ll have to move out of the way now. There are people behind you.”
    â€œSorry.”
What a grump.
    Arlo was careful to choose a seat beside one of the age-appropriate ladies. The seat on his other side was empty, but Arlo held his backpack in his lap. No sense giving somebody a chance to steal it. He watched the minute hand inch closer to departure time. Now what was he supposed to do?
    An old lady hobbled across the tile floor toward the orange chairs. She was lugging overstuffed shopping bags in each hand. The bags were so heavy, they made her shoulders sag. She was headed straight for the chair beside Arlo.
No. Please.
He didn’t want to talk to anybody. The best