“Depends on what you think is crazy?” He’s smiling, but it’s a different kind of smile than I’ve seen on him before. I don’t like it. I hear footsteps coming down the hall. “My mom’s coming, I have to go. I’ll sign on later.” I end the call, then stare at the screen with my heart thudding hard in my chest. What if he goes and talks to my dad? What if they get in a fight?
My fingers hover over my keyboard. My mom is getting closer. She stops outside my door. “Dinner’s ready, Sophie.”
“Okay. I’m just finishing up my homework.” Her steps fade back down the hall. Jared’s icon still shows him online. I should call him back and make sure he stays away from my dad. My phone rings and I grab it, glancing at the call display. I don’t recognize the number. Andrew?
I press the phone against my stomach, muffling the sound for a moment while I think. I don’t know what to do. Turn my phone off? Call my mom? Talk to him?
Before I can think any more, I answer the call. “Who is this?”
“It’s Andrew. We need to talk.”
“I told you to leave me alone.” My blood is rushing so fast through my body and my head that it feels like I’m in a tunnel, everything dark and closed in and loud.
“Sophie, this is serious. I’m in jail.”
“Yeah, for hurting Greg.”
“I didn’t have anything to do with that.”
“You keep saying that none of this is your fault and I still don’t believe—”
“Shut up for a minute. I’m trying to help you.”
I’m so stunned by his words that everything else I wanted to say dies in my throat.
“Who has your mom been hanging out with? Has she pissed someone off?” he says. “Someone is trying to get to her and screw me up. When are you going to listen?”
I stare at the calm blue walls, my ears ringing. The way he’s talking to me. It’s all familiar now. I’ve heard this voice. I’ve heard him talking to my mom like this.
“When are you going to stop lying?” I say. “Mom is right. The only person you care about is yourself, and now my whole life is fucked up. Because of you. I wish you’d disappear.”
“I’m not going to let anyone hurt you, Sophie.” The way he’s speaking scares me more than I’ve ever been in my life. It feels like I’m standing in the middle of a road and a big truck is coming straight at me. He’s angry, but there’s something else in his voice that I don’t understand. It’s like he’s making some strange sort of promise, and I’m terrified of what that means.
I open my mouth, my throat so tight I have to strain to speak. “I have to go.” I end the call, pressing my finger down hard on the keyboard, and then throw my cell onto the bed with so much force, it bounces off and clatters onto the floor.
“You okay?” my mom’s voice floats down the hall.
“Yeah, just dropped my phone.”
“Your dinner is getting cold.”
“Be there in a second.” I open my sketchpad and rip out every picture that had anything to do with Andrew. Then I sneak outside into Jenny’s backyard, the pictures clutched in my hand, and shove them under the metal grate over her fire pit. I light the corner of one sketch with a match. The flames leap and crawl over the drawings, eating everything in their path, turning the paper black. I watch until the fire has destroyed every last page and it’s all crumbled into ash.
Gone is the drawing of our fishing day at the river. Gone is the drawing of his new house with its ocean view. Gone is the drawing of his work boots with melting snow. Gone is the sketch of his hands next to mine. They’re all gone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
LINDSEY
“Do you want to stop for coffee?” Jenny asks. We’re walking in the park near the beach, where we’ve been taking Angus every night after dinner.
“Better not. The caffeine will just put me more on edge.” It’s been four days since we left Dogwood and Parker just called a couple of hours ago to let me know Andrew is out on bail. Unless the police find more evidence that he hurt Greg, they’ll drop the charges. I need to make some decisions soon if Sophie and I are going to move, but I keep faltering when I pick up the phone to call my landlord. This is the most important year in Sophie’s life. She should be graduating with her friends, obsessing over prom dresses, not having her life ripped to pieces.
Jenny glances over. “What are you thinking?”
“I don’t know when this nightmare will end. Even after Sophie moves out, Andrew can still get to me through her. What do I do? We’re living like fugitives.”
“I wish I had the answers.” She gives me a sympathetic look. The wind is whipping off the ocean and she stops to tie her hair back, her eyes squinted in concentration. We’re the same height and our shoulders bump together as we start walking down the path again.
“I feel like a rat in a labyrinth and I keep scurrying around looking for the exit. We’re not even safe in Vancouver with you. He could easily hire a private investigator.”
“So what would you like to do?”
“I don’t know. I really don’t. Do we just move back to our house and stop running?”