The shelter was downtown, but I had the impression from my day volunteering there that most of the residents were local. I went back and entered in Evan’s name and found that it directed me to a listing for a neighboring school. Evan’s name was included from his participation on the baseball team. I moved the mouse and clicked back on the addresses I’d found for his mother. One was in the same school district. Evan said his mother had moved back to their home after they left the shelter.
The ease in which I found all this information was disturbing. Regardless, it seemed like a good direction to start. I copied the information down and then closed out the pages. For good measure I spent the next thirty minutes researching information about my upcoming history paper, dutifully taking notes and printing out the content I needed, before shutting down the computer.
“All done?” my mom asked when I got up from the chair.
“For the night, yeah.”
She waved me over and I went, carrying my books close to my chest.
“Long day?” she asked.
Ha. Make that a long couple of years and a longer couple of weeks.
“Yep. Just a lot of school work and stuff.”
“You should go to bed.”
“I am.”
She rubbed my arm and I told my father, who was fully enraptured in one of the formulaic crime dramas he loved, “Good night.”
“Night, honey,” he called, never taking his eyes off the screen.
I climbed the steps to my room, trying to shake the feeling of guilt from my stomach. I hadn’t done anything wrong, I tried to convince myself. Which was true, I hadn’t. But I knew I was on the verge of crossing that line and once I did, I could never go back.
THE NEXT MORNING I went about my morning preparations as usual: waking groggily, showering, and dressing. I shared coffee and bagels with my dad while he read the paper and I checked my emails. My mother was unbearable in the mornings. It was better for everyone if we left her alone, snug and tight in her bed. My entire morning was normal.
Normalcy was exactly what I aimed for.
After I went to bed the night before, I decided it was time to do something about the information I had gathered. I tossed and turned for hours trying to figure out the best way to do it, and by three a.m. I had come up with a fairly solid plan, or so it seemed at least. It was three a.m. Anything would seem like a good idea at that time of night. But I managed to set a goal and was determined to follow through, even if I got in trouble. Instead of going to school today, I was going to try to find Evan’s mother.
“Have a good day,” my father called while I put on my coat and gloves in the foyer. I double checked my bag for the paper I had printed out at midnight when I snuck back down to use the computer after my parents went to bed. My fingers brushed against the folded paper tucked in my inside pocket. It was there.
“Thanks, you too. Bye!”
When I hit the bottom step and looked around, Evan was nowhere to be found. I had mixed feelings over this, because I missed him. He may have been the only one to talk me out of this foolish endeavor. Regardless of missing him and our routine, I didn’t want someone to stop me and I didn’t want Evan to know what I was doing.
The walk to school seemed longer than normal, but most likely that was due to the fact my stomach hurt and I wanted to puke. I’d never skipped school or a class. Lying to my parents and teachers had never really been my ‘thing.’ I thought about all the stories I heard about Connor and his behavior last year, maybe hanging out with him had turned me into a juvenile delinquent as well.
The idea made me laugh out loud, as I passed through the front doors and into the school. At least one person in the hallway looked in my direction.
“What?” I said to the gawker, feeling especially daring, and giggling again.
The kid’s eyes widened and he shrugged. “Nothing.” He turned back to his locker, but I heard him mutter “weirdo” under his breath.
This only made me laugh harder. God, I’d lost my mind.
I entered my geometry class and slipped into my seat, laying my assignment on my desk. I was thankful for once that no one spoke to me in class. It made it easier for me to blend in and remain unnoticed.
We had first period class, then homeroom where attendance was taken. My plan was to slip out between homeroom and English. I sat though class, taking notes and pretending to listen. I wasn’t sure what I would do when I encountered Evan’s mother.
‘Hi, Ms. Chambers. I’m here about your son.’ Or perhaps, ‘Ms. Chambers, that man you’re living with is a murderer. Maybe you should leave.’
I sighed and doodled on the side of my paper, waiting for the bell to ring. With every minute that passed, my heart rate picked up a notch. I knew my plan was silly and impulsive, but regardless, I had to do it. I had to see her. Realistically, she might not even be home. Evan said his mother worked. Deep down, I think I knew this was a possibility and it was why I risked going on a school day. I could say I’d tried, and if I failed, it wasn’t entirely my fault.
The bell rang and the quiet of the room filled with loud voices, scraping chairs and zipping backpacks as everyone filed down the hall toward their respective homerooms. Mine was on the other side of school and typically I saw Ava in the hallway and caught a glimpse of Connor at his locker. Today though, I ducked when Ava passed, deep in conversation with Julia. I figured if she thought I was absent she wouldn’t question me missing in class later.
I breathed a sigh of relief when she didn’t see me and I continued to slink down the hallway, hoping the same would be true for Connor. As I rounded the corner, I found him. He was all shoulders and messy hair, standing by his locker talking to Allison.
Seeing them together was always a punch to the gut, and I literally recoiled. It wasn’t him so much, but her. The way she looked at him and touched him. It was clear she was into him and the part of me that drove him away time and time again knew Allison was a better, more normal choice. Just seeing them together made sense. Even to me. The handsome boy with the pretty, undamaged girl. Why would I ever even think I had a place in that world? We were only brought together out of bizarre circumstances. It wasn’t anything more than that.
Unfortunately, seeing them together made me to forget my stealth ways and I gaped openly at them in the hallway. Connor’s eyes flashed to mine and for some, ridiculous reason I held his gaze strong. Exactly the opposite of my intention. Allison chose that moment to place her hand on his shoulder, vying for his attention. Today was a day of bravery and stupidity and I should have backed down or away to keep my plans intact. He looked at me—not her—and I couldn’t help the rush of satisfaction. To my pleasure, he offered me coy smile, ignoring Allison completely.
I almost wavered and went to him, before I regained focus. I dropped my eyes and merged with the crowd of students.
“Smooth, Jane,” I said as I entered the classroom. The point was to not draw his attention. In my seat, I found the sheet of paper I’d printed the night before and studied it for the hundredth time.
I checked the route number and stops. I calculated the transfer at the subway station downtown and fingered the money I had put in my pocket before I left home. Exact change.
It would take me three times as long to go alone, by bus and train, but I didn’t want to involve Ava and there was no way Connor would agree to this idea. When the homeroom teacher called my name I answered and made eye contact so she would know I was here.
The bell rang and I gathered my coat and bag and slipped out the side door, no one the wiser.
IT TOOK ME NEARLY an hour to get to the train by bus. I could have walked faster. I’d never taken the city bus before and the one I was on wasn’t crowded, thankfully, even though I was pretty sure I needed a vat of hand sanitizer once I sat in my seat. I kept my eyes on the scenery out the window and tried to get my nerves under control. More than once, I caught my reflection in the wide, glass windows. My hair was in a ponytail, the shor
t, loose pieces flying around my face and the tiny silver hoops hanging from my ears glinting in the sunlight. I ran my fingers under my eyes, trying to press the purplish bags from my night of little sleep away.
After an eternity, the bus slowed to a labored halt and I got off at the train station. I was a little more familiar here, my family having used it often before we moved to go to special events in the city. With only minor confusion, I found my track and waited to get on the empty car.
My phone rang the minute the doors shut. I almost didn’t check it—I was beyond terrified of being caught. Curiosity won, but I didn’t recognize the number. Sliding the screen I answered, “Hello,” over the rumbling of the train.
“Where are you?”
Connor.
Crap.
“I had an appointment.” It seemed like a valid answer.
“Is everything okay?” I could hear the concern in his voice and guilt coiled in my chest.
The train hit a bump of some kind and clanged. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just…you know…” I looked around for some kind of excuse and saw an ad on the wall. “Just going to the dentist.”
“The dentist.” He sounded relieved, but something about the phone call was off.
“How did you get my number?”
There was a definitive pause so I asked again. “Connor, who gave you my number?”
“I’ve got to go,” I heard the bell ring in the background, lunch would just be ending. “I’ll tell you about it later.”
Since I wasn’t really in the position to push, I let it go and hung up. I figured he could have gotten the number from Ava. It wasn’t a big deal. Not really.
The automated voice on the train and the screeching wheels announced my stop and I stood, forgetting about Connor and school and all the lies I had told to get to this place. From here on out, my focus was on Evan and finding the truth.
THE HOUSE IN FRONT of me was well maintained. I don’t know what I expected—abandoned cars, stacks of old tires, rotted-out screens in the front porch. That was not what stood before me. Instead, it was probably the most well kept house on the street. I check and rechecked the scribbled down address on the sheet of paper in my hand wondering if I was confused or wrong, but the two little girls’ bicycles leaning against the garage made me feel like I was in the right place. Now I just had to do something about it.
“Just knock on the door, Jane,” I said under my breath in an attempt to bolster my courage.
The driveway held two cars, one a large silver, four door truck that took up more than half the space, the other, a rundown minivan. Maybe someone was home. I wasn’t sure if that was good or not.
I took a final look at the modest one story home, with the large picture window across the front and a small porch at the door. Pushing the gate open, I strode up the brick lined walkway. The grass was brown, dormant for the winter, but still neat. I paused once I approached the front door, shifting on my feet. My body wanted to run but my mind held me in place. All I had to do was knock on the door. The rest would come. Or, so I hoped.
I mounted the last step and I pushed the round button next to the door. I could hear it echo though the house. Noises from inside followed, including loud footsteps that preceded the door opening. As it swung open, I came face to face with a man. Well, not face to face, as he was very tall and had to look down to see me. I felt ridiculous. Like a little girl playing Nancy Drew.
“Yeah?” he asked, one hand holding the door so I couldn’t see past him. Not that I tried. He was incredibly intimidating.
“I’m…” I stuttered, which was ridiculous and unlike me. He frowned and the annoyance was clear on his face. He was beyond creepy. Part of what made him creepy was his appearance. He was attractive, with graying brown hair and a good-looking face, yet his eyes were dark and beady. Untrusting.
“Whatever it is, Girl Scout cookies, cheerleading fundraiser—not interested.” He was curt and closed the door in my face.
“Wait!” I said, finding my voice.
The door swung back open and he glared down at me—his irritation more prevalent than ever. His hand gripped the frame of the door.
“Yes?” he said with mock sincerity.
Bracing myself, I said, “I’m looking for Ellen Chambers. Is this where she lives?”
Creepy guy narrowed his eyes, “Why?”
“I know…I knew her son…Evan? And I just wanted to talk with her.”
“You knew Evan?”
“Yes, can I speak to his mom? Is she here?”
“Sorry, but you walking up like this to talk about her son will upset her. I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
He took a step back, but I wasn’t ready for him to close the door. “Please? I just need to talk with her. It will only be a minute.”
“What do you want to say to her that’s so important?” The way he spoke made me feel trivial and weak. My skin crawled with discomfort.
My mind started racing. Why wouldn’t this guy just let me in? Why did he care? Clearly Evan’s mother was in the house, but what could I tell him? I hadn’t been prepared for this man to answer the door and it was quickly becoming apparent.
I tugged on the hem of my coat. “We were friends. And he really loved his mother. I just wanted her to know that. And regardless of what happened, he’s okay now.”
As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew it had been the wrong thing to say. His face twisted and he took a large step forward, toppling me off the step and onto the sidewalk.
“What do you mean regardless of what happened? What does that even mean?” His voice was laced with venom. Anger rolled off his body in waves.
My hands became clammy and I wanted to run—but where? I was trapped in this man’s yard. “I didn’t mean anything.”
“John?” A soft voice called and we both looked over his shoulder to see a woman with blonde hair standing in the doorway. Her gray eyes met mine and it was as if Evan was in front of me.
He didn’t respond but instead returned his focus on me. I could see the woman, Ellen, standing on the small porch and I could see the fear and worry on her face—she shook her head at me—in warning.
“You need to leave and never come back.” His tone was hard and frightening.
I crossed the yard as fast as I could, never taking my eyes from John. My hands searched for the gate. I was afraid to turn my back to him. My backside bumped into the fence and I jiggled the lock—this guy had gone from creepy to scary in seconds. I fumbled with the lock, keeping my eyes on him. The latch lifted but slipped, clamping down hard on my finger.
“Ahh!” I wailed, my finger trapped between the hard pieces of metal. Without speaking John’s large hand reached down and unlatched the mechanism and released my finger.
He leveled a cold, hard glare at me. Before he could say anything, a loud rattling barreled down the street and a flash of blue stopped at the curb.
Thank. God.
I had never been happier to see anyone in my life, even though the expression on Connor’s face was beyond murderous.
John looked at Connor, who climbed out of his still-idling car. With a glance back at me the man said, “Go,” and opened the gate, freeing me from the yard. I scurried past a furious Connor, and jumped into the warmth of his car.
I thought Connor would follow me, but he didn’t, he took a step toward the older man. The fence was between them and I could see Evan’s mother standing on the porch—her face creased with worry. Unsure what to do, but wanting to get out of there more than anything else, I pressed my hand flat against the pad in the middle of the steering wheel. A loud bleat sounded, causing Connor to jump and both him and the man to look at the car.
Frantically, I gestured with my hands.
He really needed to get in the car.
Our eyes connected through the glass windows and he left the older, still furious man in the yard and got back in the car.
Connor shifted gears and we flew down the road, leaving Evan
’s family behind. My nerves were completely shot. I dropped my face to my hands and burst into tears.
We were silent as he took the curves of the neighborhood streets too fast. Veering left and right—clearly taking his anger out on the car. On one particularly sharp curve I was jarred out of my seat and had to steady myself on the dashboard.
“Connor!” I yelled when his wheels squealed on the asphalt.
“What the hell were you thinking?”
“I…” I choked on an explanation. “I’ll tell you. Just take me somewhere we can talk, okay?”
He sighed and ran his hand over his chin, like I was forcing him to do something terrible. He eased his foot off the gas pedal and said, “Hold on tight,” and my fingers gripped the edges of the cracked leather seats for stability.
Without warning he turned the car into a sharp u-turn, spinning us in the other direction to an unknown destination.
CONNOR DIDN’T SPEAK AGAIN as he drove through the city. Nor when he rested at a stop light, his jaw clenched and his hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly I thought it might break. He didn’t say anything as he entered the large parking lot next to the museum, only nodding to the attendant as he retrieved his parking stub. The only noise I heard him make was a low grunt as he slammed his door and stalked toward the pristine white building. I followed him. Inside, he handed a card to the woman at the front desk, who in return gave him a map and two stickers—one he gave to me unceremoniously.
He was pissed. Epically pissed. I would have preferred to go back to the quiet of the car. Although, in public he couldn’t get too angry. I hoped.
The museum was nearly empty. It was mid-afternoon and the school groups were gone for the day, so our footsteps echoed on the marble floors. Again, I followed Connor up the winding staircase toward the upper rooms, close enough but keeping my distance—wary of the anger rolling off his body. At the top of the stairs, he turned into the small room that held the children’s exhibits, the same one I had seen Connor and Emma in that first day.
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