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Fans of Lucy Christopher’s Stolen, Caroline B. Cooney’s The Face on the Milk Carton, and Natasha Preston’s The Cellar will be captivated by this twisty psychological thriller about an abducted girl who finally returns home to her family—but is she really who she claims to be?
When six-year-old Laurel Logan was abducted, the only witness was her younger sister, Faith. Since then, Faith’s childhood has revolved around her sister’s disappearance—from her parents’ broken marriage and the constant media attention to dealing with so-called friends who only ever want to talk about her missing sister.
Now, thirteen years later, a young woman is found in the front yard of the Logans’ old house, disoriented and clutching the teddy bear Laurel was last seen with. Can her sister finally be back? Faith always dreamed of her sister coming home; she just never believed it would happen. But soon a disturbing series of events leaves Faith increasingly isolated from her family and paranoid about her sister’s motives. Before long, Faith begins to wonder if it’s the abduction that’s changed her sister, or if it’s something else. . . .
“An intriguing story from start to finish.” —Kirkus Reviews
“Clarke’s true success lies in crafting a realistic and haunting story of two young women who redefine what it means to be sisters.” —PW
“This mystery will have wide appeal and keep teens riveted.” —SLJ
“A compelling story with sympathetic and credible characters.” —The Bulletin
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
C H A P T E R
She knows. She definitely knows.
I’m not sure how she knows. I’m not stupid enough to keep a diary, and I’m not one of those weirdos who’s all Mom’s-my-best-friend-and-we-tell-each-other-everything. Maybe it’s some kind of sixth sense unique to mothers?
It’s there in her eyes every time she looks at me. The problem is, I can’t tell how she feels about it. Why can’t that show up in her eyes, too? Is she angry? Disappointed? Disapproving? Resigned? A little bit proud?
“How’s Martha’s mom doing at work? Have they announced the layoffs yet?”
It’s a trap. Classic. Of course there’s no way I’m falling for it. I shrug. “Dunno. She came in pretty late last night. I think she went out for drinks after her evening class.” I sip my tea, cool as you like. “Martha says she’s been pretty stressed about it.”
Mom nods. She knows when she’s beaten. “It must be tough.”
“They’re loaded, though, aren’t they? Martha’s dad earns enough for both of them. I don’t know why she bothers working in the first place.”
This was the wrong thing to say. I wouldn’t normally be so careless, but I’m exhausted. Mom’s big-time into feminism and equal opportunities and not relying on men. Funny thing is, I agree with her, but I’d never tell her that. Arguing is much more fun. But Mom’s not biting today; she’s obviously got other things on her mind.
“Are you okay, Mom?” I try not to ask more than three times a day, but it’s a habit. One that I learned at a very early age. When she retreated into herself, into that hellish world inside her head, sometimes it was the only way I could get her to talk to me. I never believed the answer, which was always the same, no matter what sort of day it was: I’m fine, love.
There’s no deviation from the script today, which is oddly reassuring. I was half expecting her to come out with something like, No, I’m not okay, thanks for asking. My daughter lied to me about where she was last night so that she could go and lose her virginity to Thomas Bolt in the back of a van.
There’s a newspaper lying facedown on the kitchen table. I hadn’t noticed it before, because I was too busy trying to work out how I feel about losing my virginity to Thomas Bolt in the back of a van.
All I can see is the sports page: some team beat some other team, and some guy scored more points than he’d ever scored before. But I know the kind of thing I’ll see if I flip over the newspaper. That’s why Mom is giving me all these weird looks. That’s why she put the newspaper down as soon as I came into the kitchen; she doesn’t want me to see it.
In a normal house—in Martha’s house and Thomas’s house and houses all over the country—a newspaper is just that: some paper with news in it. Wars and politics and celebrities doing inane celebrity things. In our house—our anything-but-normal house—a newspaper is often an unexploded bomb.
I don’t let on that I’ve noticed the paper. Mom gets up to wash the dishes, her shoulders slumped with the unbearable weight she carries with her every day. While her back is turned, I slide the paper over and onto my lap. Unexploded bomb or not, I need to know.
It’s always bad. Even when it looks like it’s good, it turns out to be bad. That’s actually worse: getting your hopes up only to have them dropped from a great height and splattered on the pavement. It’s hardest for Mom; that’s what everyone always says. And I suppose they’re right, but it’s hard for Dad, too. And it’s not exactly a walk in the park for me, either. But Dad’s got Michel and I’ve got Thomas; Mom has no one.
I pray that this won’t send her into full-on tortoise mode. Last time she didn’t leave her bedroom for a week. I brought her meals on a tray, but she barely ate a thing. She wouldn’t talk to me and she wouldn’t answer the phone. When Dad came over to see her, I listened at the door. “You have to snap out of this, Olivia. For Faith’s sake. She needs you.” He was wrong about that. I was coping perfectly well, even though the timing was hardly ideal—right in the middle of my exams. I don’t need her, not like when I was little. It’d just be nice if she talked to me about it once in a while. I wish she knew that there are other options besides “complete and utter breakdown” and “plastic smile, everything’s fine.” There’s a middle ground, waiting to be found.
I turn the paper over. It’s bad.
i killed laurel logan!
An involuntary noise escapes my mouth and Mom turns around. She whips the paper out of my hands and crumples it up. She stuffs it into the trash even though the can needs emptying. Some of the headline’s huge black letters are still visible because the lid won’t shut. Mom sees me staring at it and swears and stuffs the paper as deep as it will go. The lid swings back and forth.
She sits down and takes my hand. Her hand is cold— her hands are always cold. I often wonder if they used to be warm. Before. “I was going to talk to you about that.” Lie. “I’ve already talked to the police, and it’s nothing. The man’s a lunatic. They would lock him up for this if he weren’t already serving two life sentences.” She sighs. “It’s just more irresponsible journalism—it even says inside that there’s no way he could have done it. But that wouldn’t sell papers, would it?”
There are tears in my eyes, and I’m not even sure why. This happens on a regular basis—these stories in the papers or on TV or online. It’s been happening almost my whole life, so you’d think I would be immune to it by now. And I usually am immune, but for some reason today I’ve decided to be pathetic.
Mom doesn’t like it when I cry. I’m sure that’s true of all mothers about their daughters, but there’s something about Mom saying, Oh, darling, please don’t cry, that always makes me think it’s more about her than me. As if it just makes things harder for her. So I try not to cry when she’s around, because there’s nothing worse than being upset and then being made to feel guilty for being upset.
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
“The Lost and the Found” is a contemporary thriller about a kidnapped girl coming home that managed to hold my attention and keep me flipping the pages until it was finished. The story of Faith and her sister Laurel, who was kidnapped at age 6, revolves around Faith’s feelings after her sister returns home. I found it interesting to think about how a sibling would feel given the situation. Faith was both likable and frustrating in the ways that any teenager can be, and it felt like her reactions would be common in the situation. The book had a steady pace that built up to a conclusion that was both predictable and not predictable. I only had one problem, and that was with a resolution to a subplot that seemed completely out-of-character and rushed, as though it were an afterthought. “The Lost and the Found” will be of interest to older young adults and adults who enjoy a quick reading contemporary thriller that has some substance and bite. This unbiased review is based upon a complimentary copy provided by the publisher.
THE LOST AND THE FOUND by Cat Clarke is a riveting mystery about a family dealing with the sudden reappearance of their long lost daughter 13 years after a devastating kidnapping. The writing and character development is excellent. This book was an extremely interesting examination of the ways in which tragedy affects different members of a family—particularly from the viewpoint of a younger sister who has gotten used to being an only child. The influence of media coverage (or lack thereof for most families) is something I’d never actually thought much about when it came to recovering a kidnapped child. The book ended with a fantastic twist. Unfortunately this development didn’t pack quite the same punch as it could have due to the fact that I’d watched a tv show recently with a similar premise. In spite of having guessed the ending, it was definitely worth a read! Note: I received a FREE ARC (advanced reader copy) from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
"The Lost and the Found" is the story of Faith Logan, who has lived her life in the shadow of her missing older sister who disappeared while they were playing in the sandbox at 6 years old (when Faith was 4). Fourteen years after her disappearance, her sister Laurel appears at their old house carrying the bear she was holding when she disappeared. Laurel is haunted by the things that were done to her and rebuilding herself with the aid of Faith and their parents. Faith is caught up in the reappearance and her sister, allowing her wants/needs and feelings to fall to the wayside until the night that changes everything. This book is captivating and eloquent, the portrait of a disappearance and reappearance and the trials that result. Faith's viewpoint was unique and gave a different color to the story. The way her family has fallen apart and put themselves back together over time- and then must do it again once Laurel is back- gives the book a hopeful feel. I loved the very, very last part at the end which gives more insight into Faith, but regardless, I found Faith to be a completely believable character and I liked her a lot. She grows throughout the story and finds herself, figuring out her own desires for her life and for her family. It's not always easy to get there, but she does. The major twist in the story is a little predictable, since it's blatantly hinted at in the description. I wish the description didn't mention this, so it would have been more of a surprise. At any rate, the why and how is still a surprise. I won't say much more so as not to contain spoilers, but I would have loved it more if it if I hadn't known it was coming. Michel was my favorite character- he is Faith's father's significant other (husband?). He and Faith have a close relationship, spending a lot of time together. He seems to be one of the few people with her interests at heart (but I imagine this would be the way it would be, re: her parents, when you lose a child and you don't have to worry so much about the one who is safe). He's an insightful and gentle character. I would like to read about his story, as he seems to have some mysteries of his own. Overall, I really enjoyed the story; it was haunting and enthralling with some great twists at the end. Please note that I received this book from the publisher through netgalley in exchange for my honest review.