I didn’t even hear my name called. Ms. Hunt gave me a faint push in the small of my back, and I stumbled across the floor. I took the tiny leather folder that held my diploma from our vice principal and then shook both her and Mr. Boyle’s hands. I walked carefully down the stairs. My hands shook, and the faces around me were blurred. It was too hot in the gym. Sweat trickled down my back. Even more tiny black spots popped up around the edge of my vision, and they started to rush in, filling the space. My ears rang.
There was another teacher standing at the side who stepped forward to direct me back when I’d walked past my row, but I dodged him and kept heading for the exit doors. I heard Drew hiss my name, and someone else mumbled something, but I didn’t turn my focus from the red exit sign at the back. If I looked away for a second, I was sure I wouldn’t make it.
I hit the panic bar and pushed out into the foyer. Now that I was out of the gym, the ringing in my ears was even louder, like a car alarm in my head. I grabbed my bag from the pile in the corner. I started running. The doors to the outside were open, and I flew out as if a killer were on my tail. That thought made me break into hysterical laughter. I tore the flat cap off my head and tossed it aside as I ran through the parking lot. By the time I hit the far side near the playing field, I bent in half, sucking in deep breaths.
Center of the universe.
Planets.
She’d called herself Pluto—?for the missing planet. It was a joke.
But you know what else is called Pluto? Disney’s cartoon dog. Disney.
Judge Bonnet hadn’t killed his daughter. My mom had.
Fifty
My mom wove her way through the parking lot toward me. She stopped to pick up my cap. I stood there shaking as she drew closer. There was no point in running.
“Are you okay?” She brushed dust off the cap and handed it back. “Did you get too hot in there?”
“It was you.” In my mind I’d pictured myself yelling out the truth in her face, but the words came out soft and hushed.
Mom sighed, but didn’t respond. She knew I knew.
“You aren’t even going to deny it, are you?”
Mom jerked her head toward the playing field and the empty bleachers. “Let’s sit down and talk about it.”
I laughed. “Are you kidding?”
Mom rolled her eyes, “Candi, there’s no reason to turn this into a drama queen situation.” She walked past me over to the bench seat. She carefully tucked her skirt under her.
I stood there for a beat, staring at her, but she didn’t meet my eyes. I took a few steps back toward school and then stopped. Where I was I going to go? I walked over to her and crossed my arms over my chest. “Why?”
Mom motioned for me to sit, and I sank down on the bench next to her. “Let’s just say I had another vision about Paige, about what happened to her,” she said. “Do you want to hear it?”
I wasn’t sure if I did. “Yeah,” I finally croaked.
She looked out over the field. “The . . . person who did this. They didn’t intend for it to happen.”
I focused on breathing in and out. “You’re saying it was an accident?”
“Paige was going to break. No way she would have kept that story going. Once she came back and there was real pressure and questions, she would have given in and left you holding the bag. And if she hadn’t, what was her dad going to do? You think he wasn’t going to want to know where that money went? You would have gotten caught in the fallout.”
Was she trying to tell me she’d done this for me?
“In my vision she said if she went down, so would you.” She looked away.
“So—” My breath caught in my throat, and I had to swallow over and over to get control. “So this . . . person confronted Paige, then killed her to keep her quiet.”
Mom blinked and then shrugged. “I guess they panicked. Things would have happened fast.”
“Detective Jay you said you got the way she died wrong. Why?”
Mom tucked her hair behind her ears. “There’s a line between accurate and too accurate.”
“Paige was innocent; she didn’t deserve to die.”
Mom shook her head, her hair flying back and forth. “Paige was a lot of things, but she wasn’t innocent. She knew what she was doing.”
I pulled off my gown and wadded it up.
Mom grabbed me by the wrist and yanked me so I was facing her. “Stop. I was protecting my daughter. In both our cases, things went farther than we wanted.”
I pulled free of her grasp. “I didn’t kill anyone.”
“Because you didn’t have to.” Mom pushed the hair out of her eyes. Her hands were shaking. “Paige laughed at you, you know. She had you wrapped around her little finger. You were just a means to her end.”
“I thought—” My voice cracked, and I had to pause to clear it. “I thought maybe you had real abilities.” A bitter laugh came out of my mouth. “How’s that for karma? I made fun of people for believing in me, but I fell for your story.”
Mom wiped her palms. “I heard you on the phone. After you left, I went into your room and found the notes and figured out what happened. I realized then I had to do something, so I drove out there. You wrote down exactly where to find her.”
Guilt dropped heavy onto my chest. I’d basically drawn her a map to Paige. “I believed you.” Tears ran down my face.
“You believed what you wanted. You always have.” Mom reached up and wiped my cheek. “Oh, Skye, baby. We’re going to be okay.”
I pulled away from her. “We are not okay. There is nothing about this situation that is even remotely okay.”
She stood. “Let’s go home.”
“I don’t want to go anywhere with you.” Then I turned and ran.
The library was quiet. I went to the bathroom to wash my face. When I closed my eyes, an image of Paige rushed into my head. A hot rush of bile came up, and I spun, slamming the stall door open just in time to vomit the strawberry Pop-Tart I had for breakfast into the toilet. My stomach clenched until there was nothing but sour spit in my mouth. I went back to the sink and splashed more water on my face and swished my mouth out. I threw my cap and gown in the trash and buried them under paper towels. Screw the deposit.
I made it to the reference room by keeping one hand on the wall, as if the library had turned into a boat on storm-tossed waves, but I was the only thing that was unsteady. I sank into a chair and ran my hands over the scarred table. I felt impossibly old. Every joint, bone, and muscle ached. It was as if my entire body were bruised.
I was surrounded by reference books, but there wasn’t anything that could explain how things had gone so fundamentally wrong. I wanted to reach back, step by step, and figure out how I’d found myself here. If I could identify what step had led me to this place, then maybe I could figure out what to do next. It was as if I were in the middle of a minefield. My next move could move me to safety or blow things completely up.