Take the Fall(16)
I push her hand away. She might’ve agonized over my safety all day, but I’m the one who can’t shake the feeling that someone is at my back.
I gesture to the door. “Don’t you think the sheriff’s got more important things to do than follow me around like a babysitter?”
Her mouth tightens. “There was no reason for you to sneak off like that.”
“You would never have let me go.”
“You agreed you wouldn’t.”
“My best friend is dead.” I smack my order pad down on the counter. “She died Friday night instead of me. Excuse me for trying to deal with that.”
“Sonia—”
“Just forget it, okay?” I jam a pencil over my ear and clock in for the evening, ignoring stares from the few customers as I wipe fresh tears from my face.
“I’m just trying to help!” Her voice gets small. “What can I do?”
My lip trembles. “I told you, I just need to focus on my grades. I can’t risk them right now.”
This is true, even if it wasn’t my whole reason for going to school this morning. Other than a small amount of money I’ve scraped together working for my uncle the last few years, I’ve never had anything resembling what my classmates would call a “college fund.” That changed a couple of months ago when Gretchen and I were both accepted to Stanford and her parents gave me the shock of my life, offering to send us both to school together. There was no point in even pausing to think it over, but I didn’t know how to process an offer like that. I was just about to accept when the University of Pennsylvania offered me a full four-year scholarship. I felt guilty turning the Meyers down, and Gretchen too, but part of me was relieved. It feels awful to be thinking about my grades of all things in this moment, but I can’t afford not to. Now more than ever.
“Honey, if that school of yours holds something like this against you—”
“Then I guess I’ll end up working here for the rest of my life.”
As soon as the words are out, I regret them. She turns, silently organizing rolls of receipt paper in a drawer by the register, but not before I see the hurt flash through her eyes. This whole topic is something I try to avoid—why the diner is enough for her, why I’ve always wanted more. My whole life she’s been afraid something awful would happen if I left home. It turns out I didn’t even need to leave town for that.
The bells above the door jingle and she grabs a couple of menus from under the counter. “Roger said the school is safe. Just make sure you tell me everywhere else you’re going to be.”
The evening gets steadily busier and eventually my mom retreats upstairs with a migraine. Some of the major news crews are starting to leave town since no arrests have been made and the sheriff hasn’t been any more forthcoming with them than he has with me, but the local reporters are holding out. I guess they have nothing better to cover than a town preparing for a young girl’s funeral.
Deputy Rashid comes by to work on the composite drawing just before seven, and I do the best I can to give a coherent description of a face I never saw. He guides me through it, asking basic questions, and eventually I’m able to provide a few specific details. We end up with a sketch of a shadowy, androgynous person who looks a little like every guy in the world.
“Well, you never know, someone might recognize him,” Amir says, putting his pencil down.
My mouth goes dry staring at the picture. It’s a person, even if I’m not sure where some of the details came from. I imagine some deranged psychopath with this face coming after me, then Gretchen. I want to will it to come to life just so the sheriff can make an arrest.
Amir finishes his coffee and picks up his sketchpad, but I stop him before he slides out of the booth.
“Amir . . . did Kip really see it happen?” This isn’t quite what I was told at school, but it gets his attention.
He glances uncomfortably at the door. “Look, Sonia, I’m not supposed to talk about the investigation.”
“Please.” A lump rises in my throat, but I force myself to talk around it. “I just keep thinking—what if he could’ve stopped it?”
“He couldn’t have.” He sets his things back down, training sad dark eyes on me. “The kid must’ve passed through the woods right after you escaped and right before they attacked Gretchen. He saw her sitting alone at the top of the falls about the time we were here at the diner, trying to figure out what happened to you.”
I lower my head, letting out a long breath.
“I wish it could’ve been different, Sonia. I’m truly sorry.”
“Does that make Kip a suspect, then?” I look up and it’s clear I’ve caught him off guard, but it seems like an obvious question.
He rises quickly, avoiding my eyes. “I can’t discuss that with you, kiddo.” He holds up the composite drawing and thanks me for my time. “The sheriff will give you an update once we know a little more.”
The dinner rush is still going strong when he leaves, and I hustle to help Uncle Noah catch up while trying to wrap my head around everything Amir said. And didn’t say.
Around nine o’clock I’m coming out of the kitchen with a couple of slices of peach pie when I notice a figure slumped in the booth at the far corner of my section. I’m not sure how the guy ended up there. Dina just got in from her business class at the community college, but she knows I’m about to clock out for the evening. I retie my apron and dutifully shuffle over. He has a dark hoodie pulled over his head, despite the warm night. I pull out my order pad, trying to catch Dina’s eye, but she’s busy with the book club that meets here every month.