He looks away from me, shifting toward the door. “No. Why?”
“You’re sure of that?” I don’t know if I believe him or just wish I did.
“That isn’t really something you can be sure or unsure about. I was only seeing Gretchen. She broke up with me. I’m not seeing anyone now.”
I hesitate, my breath bottled up in my chest.
The tone pings again and the announcement is repeated.
Marcus curls his hands at his sides. “You might want to get to the office before they come looking for you.”
I exhale, pushing past him, but then he touches my arm. A surge of anticipation—hope—shoots through the veins leading straight to my heart.
“Please, Sonia . . . I know you still don’t trust me, but be careful. Stay out of the woods.”
I look up, and when I meet his eyes, they’re so intense I have to step back. His hand falls away and I reach for the door handle, more confused than ever.
The air is too quiet, too still once I’m in the hall, and an ominous feeling settles in my stomach. I make my way around the corner, down the main corridor, toward the office. My sturdy black boots squeak tiny shouts of protest along the tile. I look over my shoulder once to see Marcus following at a distance. He’s far down the hall, but trailing me nonetheless. I straighten a little. My steps come quicker knowing he’s there, despite the postcard sitting like a weight inside my backpack.
Kip was there, and Reva, he’d said . . . and so were you, Marcus. But would he go to all this trouble? I’m less sure about Kip leaving a postcard than a photo, and Reva’s style seems more direct. Kirsten wasn’t around, and neither were Kevin or Tyrone, but I guess that doesn’t mean anything. The fingerprint could answer a lot.
As I reach the windows looking into the main office, there’s no sign of Ms. Dixon. Principal Bova is there with Sheriff Wood, Amir, and Shelly. The sheriff uniforms are so out of context with the school, they look more like characters than officers of the law, but my heart skips a beat nonetheless. I consider just walking by, exiting the building, running home to my bed, and hiding from whatever they’re here to say. It can’t be anything good. But the sheriff spots me through the glass and the look on his face steels me enough to enter the office.
“Sonia, why weren’t you in class?” the secretary, Ms. Maynard, chastises when I walk in.
“I—I was in the bathroom, I didn’t feel—”
Sheriff Wood steps toward me, and that’s when I notice Kirsten sitting behind him against the wall, her eyes wide and scared.
“What’s going on?”
The sheriff greets me with a brief hug. “Some things have happened this morning. We’ve already spoken to your parents, but they wanted to make sure you and Kirsten heard it from us first. Why don’t you sit down.”
Kirsten tenses as I sink into the chair beside her, but the next thing I know she’s squeezing my hand. I stare at her long, slender fingers laced with mine. Her nails are bare, but rounded. Not carefully painted like Gretchen’s, not chewed and raw like my own. I don’t see the slightest trace of red ink, not that I expected to. But I can’t help studying everyone’s hands.
The adults in the office are facing us, but as Sheriff Wood clears his throat, something catches my eye in the window behind Principal Bova. I look over in time to see Marcus sink down behind the cracked-open door.
“Sonia, we got a call from your aunt Dina early this morning,” the sheriff says. “She was picking up her car at a garage over in Jamesville when she thought she spotted Gretchen’s Mercedes.”
My jaw drops.
I look from the sheriff to each of the deputies until I realize I have a death grip on Kirsten’s hand.
“The plates were removed, but we confirmed it’s hers. After some initial questions, we took one of the technicians, Alex Burke, into custody. Does that name ring a bell for either of you?”
Kirsten and I exchange a look, but I can tell by her face she’s as confused as I am.
The sheriff takes a folder from Shelly and holds a mug shot up in front of us. The guy has close-cropped hair, a deep tan like someone who works outside, and there’s something about his eyes that makes it hard to look away. But I’ve never seen him before.
Kirsten shakes her head and I follow suit. If Sheriff Wood is disappointed, he does an excellent job hiding it.
“This is going to be in the news real fast,” he continues. “I’ve spoken with both your parents, and they want you to be prepared.”
My chest feels like it might explode. “Does this mean you think he murdered Gretchen?”
The sheriff gives Kirsten a wary glance, but she’s sitting forward, as eager as I am to hear what he says. “Okay, listen, you girls are not to repeat what I’m going to tell you, understand?”