July 12th, 1984
It's officially been two full weeks since I've last seen Harper. Grandaddy sent a call into the mainland's police to keep an eye out for her. They were also informed of Harper's behavior as of late, so nobody thinks foul play has anything to do with her disappearance. I don't think so, either. I think she's finally run away from our little island. She's run off to avoid her family and her ever growing issues. I honestly can't blame her. But that doesn't mean I'm not terrified for her.
At the Independence Day celebration last week, I was caught in many conversations about the future of the company. Everyone - even the few Thorntons who live all the way in South Carolina - was overly curious about my plans. Which, of course, I have none of. I've only begun my business studies and it's not like I'm fully in charge yet, anyway. But that hasn't stopped them. Both sides of the family have tried to coerce me into okaying little things here and there that the other side has wishes specifically against.
Everything has been too much these past few weeks, especially with Harper being gone. If she doesn't return soon, I fear strongly about Grandpa Jackson's reaction. I know he'll want to send her away to that school in North Carolina; he's so earnest to be done with her. To rid the "problem girl" from his perfect family. It makes me sick. I've always loved him, and I know he loves us, but just as all Thorntons have eventually become, he's a greed-stricken man.
There's nothing I want more than Harper's return. Our cousin Wade is perhaps the only other Thornton who is primarily worried for her safety. Honestly, she's a thirteen year old girl! No matter where she is or how, she's in danger.
I've spent most of my days with Grandaddy's business teachers in the study. The little time off I do have I use to wander the grounds, practically begging for any sign of my little sister. I've been sleeping in her bedroom now, probably because I just miss her too much. Her room is so reflective of her personality - it has books everywhere, piles and piles because her four bookcases have already overflowed; clothes strown about because she doesn't care to put them away and the maids have been "banished" - by Harper - from her room; there's a broken mirror hanging on the wall with photographs of our parents taped to the glass. Like her mind, her room is utterly a mess.
My baby sister's pillow is now covered in my tears. I don't know what to do without her.