Take the Fall(8)

I DRESS IN THE DIM early-morning light and tiptoe downstairs holding my boots. My mom’s shift doesn’t start till ten, but she’ll be awake by the time school starts. If I’m going to get an idea of who else was in the park Friday night—who I could put on my suspect list—I need to be in school. I just have to get there and let my mom know I’m safe before she realizes I’m gone.

Uncle Noah’s alone behind the griddle. Usually my little cousin, Felicia, likes to hang out with her dad before school, but Aunt Elena has been keeping her close to home since Friday. Noah waves at me over a batch of hash browns that smell like salty gold. I ignore my grumbling stomach and pull on my boots. They’re tall and black with thick soles and lots of laces, and, along with my blue Penn hoodie, make me feel like I stand a chance against the world.

Uncle Noah eyes my backpack. “Your mom letting you go to school today?”

“Oh, you know, she didn’t want to . . .” I say, not looking at him. “Aisha’s giving me a ride.”

He frowns. “You still have that pepper spray I gave you?”

I pat the pocket of my backpack.

“Good. Stay aware of your surroundings. Use common sense. If your friends can’t drive you home, call me, Dina, or Elena. She’ll be home with Felicia this afternoon.”

“I will, I promise.”

His face screws up for a second and I’m shocked to see the slightest tremble in my big, burly uncle’s chin. “Come here, kiddo.”

I’ve never really been one for hugging, but I let him fold me into his arms.

“We all love you. Nothing that happened was your fault, I hope you know that.”

My throat closes up, turning my chest into a crushing weight. I’ve lain awake, failing to convince myself of this, the last three nights, but I manage a nod squashed against his vast form. I pull away and glance at the blank screen of my phone. “Aisha’s here. I’d better go.”

I slip out the security door with my backpack over my shoulder and peer around the corner through the front window of the diner. Sheriff Wood is sitting with two of his deputies, Shelly Robson and Amir Rashid. He used to joke that breakfast was the only meal he could count on in the day, before people started waking up and getting into trouble. I wonder if that’s true anymore. It’s all I can do not to walk back in there and demand to hear his list of suspects, what the other witnesses have said. Find out what they think happened to me and my best friend.

But they won’t tell me anything that isn’t already in every news report, so I turn away and head to school.

It’s only five blocks from the diner to Hurlburt High. I could easily walk, but I’m already taking enough chances. I peer around the corner. Aisha’s Jeep is nowhere in sight. I look at my phone, keeping a nervous eye on the street. She was supposed to be here two minutes ago. When I texted her last night, she sounded happy to help. I told her I was desperate for the routine of being in school, which is true. My mom’s crazy if she thinks I’m going to last another day at home. It also doesn’t hurt that Aisha’s house is next to Gretchen’s. She might have some sense of what’s going on there. I text her again:

Where are you?

The town of Hidden Falls is bisected by Black River Creek, which snakes lazily through the region before plunging sixty-five feet off the edge of a limestone gorge where it becomes the waterfall the place is named for. The town sprang up around the falls, and the land surrounding it turned into a park with nature trails, picnic areas, and a playground. My uncle’s diner sits in the business district to the north, while most of the nicer homes in town run along Park Drive on the southern side, where Gretchen’s house is. The park has always been a central place to hang out. When we were little Gretchen and I would spend all day as warrior princesses in the trees, and met for parties as we reached our teens. We never thought twice about being there, even at night.

People have died at the falls, but there’s never been a murder.

Until three days ago.

The hairs on my neck rise. Something moves in the corner of my eye and my limbs go heavy . . . like something’s coming for me. I look up, but all I see is the wind rustling the trees at the edge of the park. First Avenue is eerily quiet, almost deserted. It only takes five minutes to drive to the covered bridge, over the creek, and back down. What could be taking Aisha so long? I scan the border of the park again, pressing my back against the bricks. My battered ribs ache, but at least it’s a reminder I’m still breathing. And then it dawns on me how stupid this is. Cowering alone in an alley where anything could happen and no one would see—I could’ve been safe at school by now. I straighten my shoulders, step out onto the sidewalk, and then a shadowy figure appears from nowhere and grabs me.

He holds me by my arms, breathing heavily. Fire shoots through the scratches on my skin, my scream gets caught in my throat, but just as I start to lash out, he steadies me and lets go.

“Sonia, sorry, I didn’t see you. What are you even doing out here?”

It takes me a second to calm down and recognize Tyrone Wallace, Aisha’s older brother.

“I’m on my way to school.” I step back to study him more carefully, taking in his big frame, noting his sneakers and jogging pants, and the sheen of sweat on his dark skin. I thought he was away at college playing football. He has a reputation for being intimidating on the field, but he’s never been anything but kind to me. My body relaxes, just a little.