“There’s something we need to tell you,” he said quietly. Linda and Devon fell silent, might even have stopped breathing.
I lowered my eyes, not able to stand the looks on their faces.
“Before you were in the hospital, you didn’t have an accident. Your injuries . . . someone attacked you.” He cleared his throat.
I hesitated. “I know. I overheard the nurses talking about my scars,” I whispered. I lightly touched the bandage on my chest, where the A lay concealed beneath it. “Do they know who did it?” I should be nominated for an Oscar.
Linda clutched her coffee pot and Devon glared at the tabletop but it was Ronald who finally shook his head, eyes haunted. “They arrested a homeless man after the first murder but he was in custody when the second murder happened.”
“So they don’t have any suspects?” I asked softly, my voice scared. It didn’t take much of my acting skills to sound that way.
Ronald shook his head.
“And . . . do you suspect anyone?”
“No. You got along so well with everyone,” he said in that adoring fatherly way.
Linda put her hand on mine. “They’ll find him soon. You don’t have to be afraid. Dad and I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“There’s always a police car in front of the school,” Devon added.
They watched my face for a reaction. If I acted terrified, I knew they’d never let me out of their sight. “I’m okay,” I said. “I don’t want to hide. I don’t want to spend my time being scared of something I don’t even remember.”
I could see on their faces that they wanted nothing more than to put the attack behind them, too. If only it were that easy.
Finally, Devon spoke. “We really have to get going or we’ll be late. You’ll be the center of attention today, so walking the halls will take twice as long,” He got up and gathered his car keys and his backpack, waiting for me in the doorway.
My palms felt sweaty at the thought of being under so many people’s scrutiny. It increased the chance of someone noticing I wasn’t who I claimed to be. But it was also my chance to find out more about the murders, about Madison’s friends, and about Ryan. And to try to find, in Major’s words, the chink in the perfect armor that was Madison’s life.
I rose from the table and Linda held my backpack out to me. “Promise me that you’ll always stay with Devon or Ana. Don’t go anywhere alone.”
“Okay, Mom.”
Ronald opened a drawer, took something from it, and held it out to me. “Pepper spray, just in case.” I slipped it into my backpack, though I was sure Alec would give me something more effective once we had our first meeting.
I hesitated, not sure what the usual morning routine was. Did Madison hug her parents before she left? Since Devon was watching me expectantly, I decided not to rack my brain over it. I followed Devon out of the house toward his car. Ronald and Linda stood in the doorway. I could see on their faces just how much they didn’t want to let me out of their sight and, if it hadn’t been for Major’s impatience, I might have given in and waited a few more days before starting school again.
“Be careful,” Linda called as we got into the car.
I waved to them as we pulled out of the driveway. Devon’s posture grew tense as he drove. Suddenly, it seemed like his calm demeanor was all an act for his parents’ sake. Finally, he spoke.
“If anyone’s bothering you, tell me and I’ll talk to them.” His knuckles cracked from his tight grip on the steering wheel.
“When Mom said I got along well with people, I saw you look away,” I said. “What was that about?”
“Nobody gets along with everyone.”
“Do you think the person who . . . hurt me . . . goes to school with us?”
Devon’s expression grew tight. “I don’t know. I’ve thought about it a lot. There are a lot of creeps in school and you always seemed to be drawn to them. First Ryan and then—”
He stopped.
“And then who?”
We parked in the already crowded parking lot beside a gray building that reminded me more of a prison than a school—a three-story building with a flat roof and rows of perfectly uniform square windows. Devon turned the engine off before his eyes searched my face. With a sigh he shook his head and reached for the door handle. I gripped his arm.
“Who? Who were you talking about?”
A knock on the window made my heart jump into my throat. The door opened and a girl with long, curly brown hair and huge brown eyes beamed at me: it was Ana. Her face was familiar. I’d seen her in so many pictures but sometimes it was difficult to translate those images to real life.