THE SECRET CODE
“Oh my God,” Mrs. Kahn bleated, when she opened the door to the Kahn estate later that afternoon. Her blond hair was expertly blown out, her makeup was perfect, and she wore a new-looking ivory cashmere sweater, curve-hugging skinny jeans, and scuff-free Tod’s driving loafers. But her face was pale, and cords stood out in her neck. She stared at Aria in fear, and Aria knew instantly that Mrs. Kahn believed everything the news was saying. This was a woman who had once, at a family wedding Aria and Noel had attended, pulled Aria into a hug and said, You know, I think of you as my daughter. It was amazing how a couple of news stories could sway an opinion.
For the millionth time in the past hour, Aria wished she hadn’t agreed to this. But she was here now. The damage was done. She took a deep breath. “Can I speak to Noel for a few minutes?”
Mrs. Kahn backed away. “I don’t think so.”
Unbelievable. Aria grabbed the door before Noel’s mom could shut it. “My mom is right there. It’s fine.” She gestured toward the curb, where Ella was waiting in the Subaru. Aria was surprised Ella had said yes about bringing her to Noel’s, given that Aria had disappeared from graduation. But maybe Ella figured that there wasn’t really anything worse the cops could do to Aria that they weren’t already doing. Her mother had spent a good deal of time crying over the last month, but now she just seemed kind of spent and exhausted.
“We’ll talk out here, and she’ll watch us the whole time,” Aria added to Noel’s mom.
Mrs. Kahn squinted at the Subaru but didn’t wave—she probably thought Ella was a criminal by association. “Five minutes,” she said tightly. “Then we have to get to a graduation party.”
She shut the door halfway. When it opened again, Noel stepped out. “Aria,” he said. His voice cracked. He was holding his graduation cap in his hands.
“Hey,” Aria said softly, her heart pounding fast.
It felt like ages since she’d talked to him. Suddenly, here they were, standing within inches of each other on his porch. Part of her wanted to give him a huge hug. Another part worried he’d push her away—she hadn’t heard from him since the arrest. Another part, an angry part, yearned to run.
When he met her gaze, his eyes were soulful, concerned, and uncertain. The bruises on his cheeks had faded to yellow, and the stitches on his jaw were no longer puffy and Frankenstein-monster-like. He had a cast on his arm, too, but he was mostly the Noel she remembered. Aria glanced at the Nike lacrosse T-shirt, feeling an ache. He’d worn it the day she’d returned from Iceland, the first day they’d sort of talked. Did he remember that? Was he wearing it today on purpose?
“Are you . . .” Noel started.
“Have you . . .” Aria said at the same time. She stopped. “You first.”
“No.” Noel swallowed. “You.”
She stared at the basket-weave brick pattern on the porch floor. All at once, she had no idea what to say. “Congratulations,” she finally mustered, pointing to the cap.
“Thanks.” Noel set it down and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. A hawk screamed loudly in the sky overhead. “I don’t believe it, you know,” he said quietly. “I don’t know what happened, and you don’t have to tell me, but I think I know who’s behind this. Am I right?”
Aria nodded, her insides twisting. “That’s why I need your help.”
Noel’s brow furrowed. “Me?”
“You were her friend. Are you sure you don’t know where she could be?”
Noel shook his head vehemently. “I have no idea.”
Aria sighed. Above them, bronze wind chimes knocked together. The sun came out from behind a cloud, making slanted stripes across the vast front lawn. “Okay, then,” she said, turning. “I guess I’ll go.”
“Wait.” Noel’s voice was like an oar cutting through water. Aria turned, and there was a strange, tortured look on his face. “There was no e-mail or phone at The Preserve, so we used to have a secret code for when she needed to talk.”
Aria sucked in her stomach. “Have you used this code recently?”
“Of course not. Even if I did know she survived the fire, I would have done everything in my power to hurt her, not help her.”
Aria walked back to the porch. “Could you use it now?”
Noel glanced around the front yard, as though he thought Ali might be watching. “I don’t know. She might not fall for it.”
Aria wrapped her hands around the railing that surrounded the porch. “We’ve been getting A notes—from her. But no one believes us. We’re grasping at straws. Believe me, I didn’t want to ask you, but you’re our last hope. We don’t want to go to Jamaica.”
Noel slumped against one of the Adirondack chairs. “I don’t want you to go to Jamaica.”
“Then help us.”
The door opened behind him, and Mrs. Kahn stuck out her head. “Noel? We need to get going.”