We both nod.
“This Burke kid claims he knew Gretchen . . . that they had some kind of relationship. He could be our guy. There’s likely going to be some gossip around all of this, but I need the two of you to stay strong. Finding this guy with Gretchen’s car is a major break in the case. We’re a lot closer to figuring out exactly what happened to her. I just need you to sit tight while this information develops.”
I nod again, but that’s all I can manage through the sudden buzzing in my head. I want to get up and shout, cry—run around the room—but all I can do is sit and listen, trying desperately to wrap my mind around everything I’m hearing. That Gretchen had a relationship with some car mechanic she never mentioned and now the cops think he might’ve been her killer.
I’m afraid to hope it’s that simple.
“Of course, Sheriff,” Kirsten says, solemn and attentive. “Anything we can do to help.”
I look up in time to see Principal Bova escorting the sheriff and deputies out the door. There’s no sign of Marcus in the hall, and I wonder if he heard all of that.
“Do you want me to drive you home, Sonia?” Kirsten hovers in front of me, her face clouded with concern. “I’m sure you could be excused for the day.”
“No—” I rise from my chair too quickly, letting my bag slide out of my lap and hit the floor. “Thanks, no, I need to stay. I have an exam this afternoon. My mom will just worry more if I go home.”
Kirsten stoops to pick up my backpack, but when I remember the postcard, I yank the strap out of her hands.
“Sorry—I’m sorry,” I say, forcing myself to exhale.
“It’s okay,” she says, leading the way toward the door. “That was all . . . really unexpected.”
“That’s a good word for it,” I mutter, and then I notice the troubled look on her face and I feel awful. Catching a killer won’t make her situation easier. “Are you okay? I mean, with—”
“My sister’s secret life?” She shrugs just as the bell rings. “Gretchen never talked to me about the life she didn’t keep secret. I guess this is just more of the same for me.”
I shake my head. It’s new for me, and I’m not sure how to feel about it. I don’t remember a time Gretchen passed a hot guy on the street without gushing to me afterward. I can’t imagine her carrying on an entire relationship without telling me. But she didn’t mention she’d made the ethics website real either.
I touch Kirsten’s arm. “I never understood why she closed you out like that.”
“It wasn’t your fault.” The hall is getting crowded and I can tell she wants to get away, get to class, as much as I do. “Let me know if you want a ride home later or if you’re going with Aisha. Good luck on your exam.”
She disappears into the surge of students. I make my way alone toward history, and while my step feels lighter than it has in weeks, one detail sticks like an unsettling sliver in my head. Why would a car mechanic from the next town bother putting pictures and postcards in my locker?
TWENTY-FOUR
“YOU SURE YOU DON’T WANT me to come with you?” Aisha leans over the seat, gazing past me toward the sheriff’s office.
“You’d miss your date with Derek. Go, have a good time. I just want to find out if the rumors are true. I’ll sleep easier tonight if there’s really been an arrest.”
“Text me if you do find out. I’m dying to know.” She shifts the Jeep into drive and I start to close the door, but she calls after me. “Hey, I meant to ask you earlier. Can you come over tomorrow?” She cringes. “I’m sorry, I hate to ask, but since I’m up for prom queen now, I could use all the help I can get choosing a dress.”
I blink. Aisha filled Gretchen’s place on the prom ballot alongside Brianne and Jill Barkman. I know this shouldn’t bother me, but it does. I force a smile.
“Yeah, sure. I’m off tomorrow afternoon.”