"Do you remember a girl who called herself Perdy, from your school?" - I ask.
The dark haired woman in front of me goes from smiling and standing up straight in her frumpy denim shirt and jeans combo. Her eyes narrow and she she crosses her arms protectively over her chest, ’ Yeah. We went to school together for a few years. She was a total bitch. She kissed my boyfriend. Talked shit about me and my friends. Long blonde hair, right? Yeah, Perdy or whoever she was. She didn’t speak to us much. Just like, left one day and then freaked everyone out ‘cause she was really missing. Probably on drugs or dead now, right? Haha… that’s why you’re here?’
"Do you remember a girl who called herself Perdy, from your school?"
This guy is thin and blond and at in a shitty bar, drinking in the afternoon. “Perdy, yeah, yeah. I dunno why, we weren’t friends or anything but yeah, she was in my school and in a few of the same classes. She was really good at English. I remember she just stopped coming one day, though. The teachers were really pissed off at first but then they told her folks and they didn’t know where she was, neither. Everyone kind of just didn’t make a big deal out of it for a couple weeks, which is weird I guess. Just assumed she was partying or whatever, maybe with a guy or something. My parents would’ve freaked if I’d done that. Just took off. Then everyone kind of went into a panic and tried to find her but it’d already been so long… who knows where she went. Her parents didn’t get in trouble about it, neither. I remember seeing them around town at shows and stuff after that. Nothing. Think they’re still there. Hey, you find Perdy? What happened?
'Your daughter, Perdy, where is she?'
Mrs de Palma looks at me hard. She’s beautiful, if older but there’s nothing much else to her. Her eyes are blue and shallow, full of a low-heated anger, i assume because of the position she is in, the camera that is on her, because of me and how i have interrupted her easy world.
"Perdy left us. The police know, they found the messages on her c-c-c, on her laptop and they suspect she’s somewhere overseas. It was in the papers. That’s all the information I have for you, what you already know. They told me not to blame myself, that girls do this sometimes. I wish I could tell you more but I suspect everything you found online is all you’ll need. She left, she’s gone. It’s b-b-b-been ten years and nothing. I tried to find her. Do you know what it’s like? What is this all about? I have nothing to tell you! You tell me where she is! You tell me! I thought this was an interior design piece! Lies! You’ll say anything to get in h-h-h-here. I think you should leave. That wasn’t my fault. We don’t know where she is.’