Julie’s gaze flickered to Caitlin for a split second. “Thanks for the concern. But I’m never going to school again.”
She sounded so certain and determined. Also so robotic. Caitlin took a breath, wondering if she should even press the issue further. But she did. “Look, I know it must be really hard to think about coming back, but it’s okay. We’ll be there for you—we’ll protect you. Plus, I don’t know if you even know this, but Ashley isn’t . . . well, she’s not at school right now. She’s missing.”
“I heard,” Julie said.
“Oh,” Caitlin said, surprised. “Well, okay then. But don’t you think it’s scary? Considering . . . you know. Our list.”
Julie turned and stared at her, her eyes still lifeless. It sent a shiver up Caitlin’s spine. “All of this is scary,” she whispered. And then she shut her eyes and crumpled back to the porch. “I’m really tired,” she mumbled.
Caitlin nodded and stood. “Okay. I’ll let you get some rest, then.”
Julie lurched to her feet awkwardly. “Maybe.” She shuffled to the front door, her face angled downward.
“Will we see you tomorrow?” Caitlin blurted out, cringing at her overly chipper tone.
But Julie didn’t respond. She opened the front door, wobbled through it, and closed it behind her with a wheezing clatter.
Caitlin stood on the front porch for a moment longer, too astonished to move right away. It was like she’d been talking to a completely different girl right then. Someone she didn’t know.
She knew she should leave that instant, but something made her remain in place, listening. Through the door, she heard Julie’s muffled voice. Julie sounded mildly agitated. When she was done speaking, there was silence—whoever Julie was talking to was speaking too quietly for Caitlin to hear. Julie’s voice murmured again, then more silence. Was it her mother, perhaps?
The curtain flickered, and Caitlin jumped away, suddenly feeling like she was eavesdropping. She turned and started to head down the stairs but crashed into a rusted metal pot and scraped her shin, hard. “Ow—crap!” She leaned down to rub her leg, and when she did, she caught a glimpse of something tucked into the far corner of the porch, behind the newspapers and potted plants. It was a plastic tub, slick with droplets of rainwater collected on the lid. A red biohazard symbol—Caitlin recognized it from chemistry class—was emblazoned on the front. She moved closer and read the label: FERTILIZER. And below that: For agricultural use only. Contains Potassium Cyanide.
Confusion and fear radiated in waves through Caitlin’s body. It took her brain a moment to catch up. She stared at the bucket, reading the words over and over.
That’s what killed Nolan.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
FRIDAY AFTERNOON, JULIE SAT AT her desk, staring blankly at her computer, while Parker sat on the bed behind her, leafing through Us Weekly. It was midday and still so weird to be home while everyone else she knew was at school. But whatever. She was never going again. No one could make her.
Julie logged on to Facebook. She wasn’t even sure why—it wasn’t like she was going to just start messaging people or posting like nothing had happened. She could just imagine the post: Sorry I haven’t updated in a few days! Been too busy recovering from public humiliation, avoiding the cops, and covering up for my best friend—the serial murderer. Good times!
She had barely finished typing in her password when dozens of notifications popped up. One after the other, they delivered the happy banalities of normal life—the life she and Parker would never have again. She read the messages about Nyssa’s Halloween party. Who’s ready to start the party early? See you at my place in 3 hours! Only the costumed need apply! Nyssa had written. A bunch of people had replied with enthusiastic likes.
Julie had forgotten it was her old friend’s Halloween party tonight. For a brief moment, she was transported to parties of years past—such happier times. Like the one two years ago: She’d dressed up as a Vegas showgirl, with a plume on top of her head and a sparkly dress that showed off her toned body. People had taken tons of pictures of her for Facebook, and she’d been unofficially voted best outfit of the night. She’d danced all night with her friends—including Parker. Parker hadn’t been at last year’s, though—her attack had happened only weeks before. Julie vaguely remembered going, but not really having that great of a time—she’d still been so shaken.