The Hanging Girl

“I blame you for not telling me everything.”

“For someone who likes to see herself as jaded, you’re freakishly na?ve. Darling Skye—?I picked you because you are the type to not ask too many questions. You want to believe everything happens for a reason, but the real reason is because other people make those things happen. You keep waiting for luck to lead you, and you aren’t going to get anywhere.”

I stared at the phone. I had no idea what to say.

“If it makes you feel better, even though you can be a real bore, you’ve been a good partner. I wish I could have gotten you the money. You deserve it.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled and then was pissed at myself for thanking her for fucking up my life.

She laughed. “Once I’m back, we’ll go out. I’ll tell you everything. Trust me, there are things you will not believe.”

“But—”

“See you tomorrow.” She clicked off the phone.

After Paige hung up, I dropped my head between my knees until I got my breathing back under control. My guts cramped, and I bent farther over my knees. I couldn’t pull in enough air. Panic was starting to set in.

I stumbled out into the living room. My mom stood in the open door, her purse under her arm and keys in her hand.

“I’m going out,” I said.

“Skye, baby, we should talk. I heard about what happened today.”

I cut her off. “Spare me how you’re upset that I didn’t tell you about my vision first. What you’re really mad about is that you didn’t have a chance to run to reporters before anyone else.”

She pulled back, shocked, and I winced. Lately I was incapable of not offending everyone around me. “I’ll be back later.”

“Skye—”

“Later.” I stepped past her quickly as if she might try and stop me, and headed out into the night.





Twenty-Nine


I felt like I hadn’t slept, but when I rolled over and looked at the clock, it was already six. I lay there working myself up for the day ahead. I kept reminding myself that I just had to push through, and by the day’s end, it would be over. I’d smooth things over with Drew. If she could still organize the readings she talked about, there was a chance I could come up with the money I needed for New York. I tried to do the math to figure out how many readings I’d need to do to have enough for a security deposit, but my brain kept skipping around, unable to focus.

I was so tired the idea of getting up seemed as impossible as climbing Everest in flip-flops. I reached for my phone and texted Detective Jay, saying that I needed to meet with him. One step closer. All I needed to do was break the day into small, manageable bites.

My nose twitched. Toast. I padded into the kitchen and stopped short. My mom was sitting at the table fully dressed, sipping out of one of our chipped mugs. Even her hair was done—?not in a ponytail, but blown out.

“Coffee?”

“Um, sure.” I felt underdressed in my T-shirt and boxers. I sniffed the milk before pouring some in my cup. “Listen, about last night,” I started.

She waved off what I was about to say. “It’s been stressful. Let’s not talk about it.”

“What are you doing up?” I asked.

“I’m going to the police department,” she said.

My hand shook, and a dollop of coffee splashed down on the counter. “What?”

“I had a vision.” She tidied the stack of catalogs in front of her, flipping through one at random. “About Paige. I was going to tell you last night, but then you went out. I called the police department first thing this morning. The detectives are going to meet me there.” She chewed the rest of her toast; a tiny drop of melted Jif peanut butter dropped on the page. Mom licked her finger and wiped it off the smiling model’s face.

I blinked. “What did you see?”

She leaned back in her chair and sighed. “I don’t feel her anymore. I used to sense her out there, like a small vibration. I think she’s gone.”

“Gone? You mean, like, dead?” She nodded. Just when I thought things were already too complicated. There would be no way to talk her out of it.

“I had a vision too,” I admitted.

“Tell me what you saw. I’ll share it with the police when I tell them mine. Then you don’t have to be involved.” She leaned forward, cupped the side of my face. “I know you think this is all about me wanting media attention, but it’s about keeping you out of it, the way you wanted.”

“I already texted Detective Jay.”

Her mouth pursed. “I wish you hadn’t done that.” She stood and straightened her skirt. “You better get dressed. You can ride with me.”





Thirty


I shifted in the chair. The interview room hadn’t changed since the last time I was there. The detectives had separated my mom and me. They listened to my story and then went to talk to her.

On the drive over, the news on the radio had been full of the revelation that Judge Bonnet hadn’t ponied up the ransom money. Paige had gotten her way. Sometime during the night, the police had released more snippets from the “diary.” I had to hand it to her—?she laid it on thick, talking about how she just wanted to come home safe and how betrayed she felt. Their family lawyer issued a statement that the Bonnets hadn’t believed that the ransom request was from the actual abductors, just someone trying to con them. They came across as heartless, which was pretty much Paige’s goal, so I suspected she was happy. Or would be when she finally heard. I felt bad for her mom and dad. They likely had no idea what they’d spawned.

I checked the time on my phone. Another minute had ticked past. If Paige hadn’t already put on the zip ties, then she would soon. She’d be sitting on the dirt floor, waiting to be found. I couldn’t escape the sensation that we were running out of time. If she had to wait too long, who knew what she might do. It wasn’t like she was the most stable person in this equation.

Detectives Jay and Chan finally bustled back into the room. “Let’s go over it again.”

I scootched forward in my seat. “I don’t have anything else to tell you.” I bit back that I’d all but drawn them a map. All they had to do was go out and pick her up. Cue the media for her dramatic coming home photos. Jay glanced over to the two-way mirror.

I was suddenly positive that Paige was sitting in the other room. She’d found some way to blame the whole thing on me. Or maybe Ryan and me together. My mouth went dry. Who were the cops going to believe—?me or a judge’s daughter? My glance slid to the side to catch my reflection. I pictured Paige, her family around her in a protective circle, patting her shoulder, all watching me. Letting me squirm. Adrenaline flooded my system.

I started picking at my thumbnail and then made myself sit on my hand to stop. They would be watching me. I’d seen enough TV cop shows to know this room was wired for sound and video. Blotchy hives bloomed on my neck and chest.

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