Faces of kids she’d spent the last twelve years with lined the rows. Phi Templeton sat next to Devon Arliss. Spencer’s field-hockey friend, Kirsten Cullen, giggled with Maya St. Germain. Noel Kahn, still looking a little weak, sat with his lacrosse buddies. Naomi Zeigler, Riley Wolfe, and Klaudia Huusko whispered to one another. Cast members from countless school plays Spencer had starred in fiddled with their tassels. Her cohorts on newspaper and yearbook fanned themselves with their programs. None of them glanced back at her. There weren’t even four empty seats, indicating where Spencer, Aria, Emily, and Hanna should be sitting. It was like Rosewood Day had wiped them clean from its memory.
Spencer looked around, wondering if any of the others had come. She finally spied Aria and her mother on the other side of the field. Hanna was under the bleachers. Emily wasn’t anywhere. Maybe she had the right idea.
Principal Appleton cleared his throat on the stage. “And now, I present to you, our valedictorian, Mason Byers.”
There was thundering applause as Mason rose from a seat in the front row and took the stage. Spencer shook her head ever so slightly. Mason Byers? Sure, he was smart, but she had no idea he was next in line for valedictorian. She was supposed to be up there right now. She’d had a speech prepared since sophomore year. Knowing Mason, who never stressed about anything, he’d probably written the speech last night.
Melissa reached over and squeezed Spencer’s hand. “It’s going to be okay.”
Spencer swallowed a lump in her throat, grateful to have someone next to her who understood how painful this was. But it was too much. “Let’s get out of here,” she grumbled, walking toward the parking lot.
Melissa followed her. As they passed the big fountain in the front of the gym, she coughed. “Listen, we’re working on finding you a top-notch lawyer from Jamaica. Darren has some contacts down there, and so does Dad.”
Spencer pinched the bridge of her nose, hating that the lawyers weren’t even considering the possibility of trying the case in the United States anymore. “Do you know how long it takes for a case to go to trial in Jamaica?”
“I’ve gotten conflicting answers.” Melissa’s heels clicked on the sidewalk. “Some people said only a few months. Others said years.”
Spencer made a small whimper.
A cheer rang out from the Commons. Melissa stopped in the middle of the jammed parking lot. “I’m sorry,” she said with a pained look on her face. She glanced around the lot, then leaned closer. “If you do get sent to Jamaica, I’ll look for her after you’re gone. I don’t want to stop until she’s dead.”
Spencer shook her head. “Don’t. It’s awesome that you’d offer, but she’s dangerous. She’ll kill you, Melissa. I couldn’t live with that.”
“But . . .” Melissa trailed off and sighed. “It’s just not fair.”
Spencer didn’t think it was fair, either. And this was so ironic: Just when she and Melissa were really, truly bonding, becoming the sisters Spencer had always hoped they’d be, her life was ending.
Her phone beeped loudly. Spencer looked at the ID. EMILY. As Melissa unlocked the car, Spencer answered it. There was no reply, only the sound of wind. “Hello?” Spencer said. “Em?”
And then she heard crying. The sobs were soft at first, but then they intensified.
“Emily!” Spencer shouted into the phone. “Em, are you there? Why aren’t you at graduation?”
The sobbing stopped. There was some rustling, and then Emily sniffled loudly into the receiver. “S-Spencer?” she bleated.
Spencer sat up straighter. “Why aren’t you at graduation?”
“I just wanted to call to say good-bye.”
More wind blew against the speaker. On Spencer’s end, the band had just struck up the beginning notes of “Pomp and Circumstance.”
“What’s going on?” All at once, it sounded like Emily was crying again. Spencer clutched the phone tighter. “Em. What’s wrong?”
“I just can’t do this anymore,” Emily said. Her voice had no intonation to it. “I’m really sorry. I’m just . . . done.”
Spencer’s skin prickled. She’d heard Emily despair before, especially after she’d had her baby. But this seemed different, like Emily was in a dark, dark place and had no idea how to save herself.
“Where are you?” she demanded, gripping the phone hard. Melissa paused from getting into the car, giving Spencer a curious look.
“It doesn’t matter.” There was a swish, maybe a car passing. “You’ll never get here in time.”
Spencer’s heart pounded. “What do you mean?” she demanded, even though, horrifyingly, she thought she knew. She spun in a circle, feeling helpless. “Em, whatever you’re thinking of doing, don’t. I know things are tough right now, but you have to hang on. Just tell me where you are, okay?”
Emily laughed bitterly. “I probably won’t even drown, you know. That’s the thing I was thinking just before I accidentally called you. I picked a bridge—and I’m a freaking swimmer.”
“A bridge?” Spencer’s eyes darted back and forth. Melissa was now standing next to her, her eyes wide and full of question. “Which one? The covered bridge?”
“No,” Emily said quickly, but Spencer could tell she was lying. “Don’t come, Spencer. I’m hanging up now.”
“Em, don’t!” Spencer screamed. The call ended. Spencer tried to dial Emily back, but it rang and rang, not even going to voicemail.
“Shit,” Spencer said out loud.