The door opened, and his aunt bustled back in. She slipped her cell phone into her front pocket before she noticed Mattie’s face, which he hastily wiped.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Are you in pain? Should I get the nurse?” She turned back to the door and Mattie reached out a hand. “No,” he said. “Please. It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?” she asked. “Mattie, what’s wrong? Are you unhappy? Or are you shaken up from your bike accident?”
“I just fell,” Mattie said. It was the story he’d repeated, over and over. He just fell. There was no truck. There wasn’t someone following him.
No one was trying to murder him.
He just fell.
He hadn’t killed anyone.
Dr. Stratford had just fallen too.
More tears escaped. They rolled down his cheeks and onto his faintly blue hospital gown.
“What is it?” she asked.
“I’m a terrible person,” Mattie told his aunt. “I’m a terrible, terrible person. And I need to tell someone.”
“Mattie . . .” his aunt said. “You’re talking crazy. I should have never bought you that new bike.”
Something clicked in Mattie’s head.
“What? My dad bought me that bike, right before I came here.”
His aunt ducked her head, and her tiny pin curls fell in her face. “I noticed that you didn’t like the car very much, so I found a bike exactly like your old one. I was going to surprise you with it, but the day I had it delivered, you were just leaving—so I stashed it, and you . . . well, you found it.” She shrugged. “Did you think some Good Samaritan had returned it?”
Mattie shrugged. “Something like that.” His mind spun. Had he been—wrong? Had his bike really just been stolen that night?
Did it really not have anything to do with Stratford?
“Did something go wrong with the bike?” his aunt asked.
Mattie shook his head. “Uh, no. I think I just hit a rock, and the tire skidded. It was just one of those things, you know?”
His aunt reached forward and patted his hand. “Listen, Mattie. I know we haven’t spent a lot of time together this summer, but I know you’re a good boy. A good person. But you’re like your mother, aren’t you? You’re probably thinking this accident is some sort of punishment.”
Mattie ran his hands over the cotton sheets, not meeting her eyes. “What if it is?”
“Mattie.” His aunt’s voice was gentle. “That isn’t how life works. You’re a good kid. Start acting like you deserve good things and they’ll come to you.” She squeezed his knee. “Now, do you want me to stay, or what?”
“Yeah. If you would. It would make me feel better.”
“Sure.”
His aunt buzzed a nurse to bring her an extra blanket, and she was asleep in minutes, her head rolled back. She snored faintly.
She was the good person.
Not Mattie.
Mattie hated that she was so wrong about him. She thought he deserved good things.
Which was why, when he got out of here, he was going to the police.
The only way to make things right was to save everyone else.
Kinley
Wednesday, July 1
Kinley’s hand shook as she stretched out another piece of tape. She wrapped it around the bubble wrap. It had to be secure.
“What are you doing?”
Arms encircled her from behind. Tyler kissed her on the cheek.
She did not want to be touched. She just wanted . . . she didn’t know. She didn’t know anymore.
“I have it,” she said stiffly. “I have it all here. It’s the confession. It’s where Cade threatens us all and it’s clear that he is the one behind the killing.”
“Whoa.” Tyler reached around and took both of her hands in his. “Slow your roll, baby. What’s going on?”
“The confession. We have to do this.” She wrenched his hands free. “Do you have a manila envelope? Or, like, a bubble mailer? I think we need to drop by the police station with this today. Or maybe you could give it to your parole officer?”
“You were lucky to get tape from me,” Tyler said. “You need to slow way down, Kin. Why are you in such a hurry to send that?”
Kinley looked at her shoes and leaned back against the desk. “Tyler, I just want this to be over. I just want to be done and I want to wash my hands of it and I want to go to college really far away and—”
Tyler grabbed Kinley and held her tight to his hard chest. “Calm down, Kin. Calm down. You’re freaking out, okay? You’re in a tough spot. We’re in a tough spot. But you need to breathe for a minute. Just breathe.”
She felt herself relax against him, just a little bit. He guided her over to the bed. “Turn around.”
“What?” she said.
“Just do it, please.”
Kinley turned away from Tyler, her pulse speeding up. She wondered if Tyler was going to play some sort of weird sex game. She wasn’t ready for that.
She felt his hands grip her shoulders, and he began to rub in a slow, circular motion.
“Lie down,” he whispered.
She obeyed, and he slid up on the bed. His hands kneaded her back. She felt Tyler lift the hem of her shirt and slide his hands beneath the stiff cotton.