Little Girl Lost

She was going to have fun if it killed her. And, judging by the way Portia Blanchard's feet were slipping out from under her, it just might. "Come on, Portia. You can do better than that." Her older sister Cordelia laughed the words as she sped by Portia, her skates spraying chips of ice as she passed. "Your skirt is too long and too full. That's why you're having trouble. Let's go back to the house.You can change clothes." Miranda, the oldest of Portia's five sisters, took her arm, urging her toward the edge of the pond. "Changing won't transform me into a world-class skater, Miranda." Portia pulled away, her clumsy efforts almost landing her on the ice. She'd never been graceful on skates, but she'd always loved trying. Loved the yearly twilight skate she shared with her five sisters, loved the cold crisp air, the feeling that no matter what the future held, they had each other. "Besides, I don't want to miss sunset." "We've still got twenty minutes until sunset. That's plenty of time to get to the house and back." Miranda was nothing if not determined. "Twelve minutes. Give or take a few seconds," Bianca, second-born and usually the peacemaker of the family, cut in. "She's an adult, Miranda, not a kid. She can wear what she wants, so stop nagging her." "I wasnotnagging. I was just pointing out that pants might be more appropriate." "Appropriate? Since when has Portia been appropriate?" Nerissa skated toward them, a smile lighting a face so like Portia's even their father had difficulty telling them apart. "Since never." Juliet joined them. The baby of the family, she had a restless energy that was never quite contained, though tonight she seemed subdued, her green eyes lacking their normal sparkle. They all seemed subdued and Portia knew she was partially to blame, her heartache adding to the discordant note of this year's reunion. Maybe she should have stayed in New York. The family had enough to worry about without adding her troubles to the mix. "No, you shouldn't have stayed in New York." Rissa leaned in close, sensing her thoughts and whispering the reassurance in her ear. "No twin secrets tonight." Juliet smiled, but there was something in her eyes that bothered Portia. Sadness? Jealousy? "We're here to have fun and relax. So why are we all looking so gloomy?" The question hung in the air, no one willing to give voice to the answer. After almost twenty-three years of believing their mother dead, they had evidence that she might be alive. It wasshewho occupied their minds this cold February day. But more than that occupied Portia's. She thought of Tad, of Jasmine, of the wonderful time they'd had together at last year's Winter Fest, and felt something hot and tight fill her chest. "You'reall looking gloomy because none of you can compete with my grace and beauty on the ice." She whirled away from her sisters, attempting a spin that athletic Delia could have done in her sleep, but that Portia had never perfected. Her skirt billowed out, tiny silver mirrors sewn into the material catching the last rays of golden sunlight. For a moment she was fluid and graceful, the world reduced to a smeared painting she longed to capture on canvas"powdery snow, towering evergreens, a hazy purple sky. Then her feet tangled and she flew backwards, landing in a heap of fabric, laughter bubbling up and spilling out. If it was edged with hysteria, only Rissa would hear and she'd never dream of pointing it out. Detective Mick Campbell followed the sound of laughter across a road and through a cove of trees. Unless he missed his guess, the pond he was looking for was just ahead. According to Winnie Blanchard, all six of the Blanchard sisters were skating there. A thin layer of snow muffled his footsteps as he moved into a clearing shadowed in twilight. The pond, much larger than Mick had expected, shimmered in the fading light. As Winnie had said,McCoy, Shirlee is the author of 'Little Girl Lost ', published 2007 under ISBN 9780373442300 and ISBN 0373442300.