Take the Fall(95)

I press my face into her neck, breathing in her scent—her warmth—horrified I almost chose to never see her again. “I’m sorry, Mom, I’m so sorry.”

She strokes my hair. Her tears wet my cheek.

Sheriff Wood comes over, looking haggard and overtired. “I’m sorry about this, Marlene.”

I close my eyes, bracing for the handcuffs, but he puts a gentle hand on my shoulder.

“I’ve got a statement from Marcus, but I’ll need yours too. Why don’t you go home and get cleaned up. I’ll come by in a little while, once I hear how Kirsten’s doing.” He gives my shoulder a squeeze. “Just try to calm down, Sonia.”

I look up, confused. Marcus catches my eye and gives me a subtle nod.

My lips part. Didn’t he tell them what I did?

“Thank you, Roger. So much.” My mom gives Marcus a wary look and then leads me back up the stairs and along the path that takes us closest to the diner. “Felicia is still sleeping,” she says, trying to sound like she isn’t terrified and furious and relieved. “I don’t want her to wake up without us there.”

My breath cuts short. “Uncle Noah?”

“Elena texted twenty minutes ago. He pulled through the surgery. It’s still touch and go, but she says the worst part is over.”

I exhale.

“What were you doing out here, Sonia?” She takes a measured breath. “With that boy.”

I can’t tell her. I open my mouth, but it’s just like before. I have no words to tell her what I’ve done.

What I almost did.

At home, I shower and change clothes. My mom makes me a cup of tea and asks if I want to talk, but I tell her I need to lie down. It’s still more night than it is morning as I close the door to my room. I set the tea on my desk and turn my closet light on, running my fingers over the names carved in the floor. The little tin box is tucked away at the back, hidden under the clothes like no one’s ever disturbed it. I drop my bracelet inside and lay Gretchen’s gently next to it.

If someone had suggested what would happen to us a month ago, I think we both might’ve laughed. If one of us was a killer, it was never going to be me. It’s too late for apologies or wishing none of this ever happened, but I take a moment now to whisper a quiet good-bye. I’m not proud of who I was with Gretchen, but I don’t know who I would be without her either.

My Penn hoodie lies at the foot of the bed. I pick it up, hold it to my face, breathe into the fabric. It smells of coffee and the woods. My finger traces slowly around the outside of each red letter—because I came that close. I fold the sleeves carefully, tucking it to the back of my bottom dresser drawer. Then I sit on the floor of my bedroom and finish my tea, trying to get the words right in my head.

My mom sits forward on the couch where she waits with a cup of coffee. “Did you get some sleep?”

I shake my head and snuggle in next to her, resting my head on her shoulder. The sky outside is beginning to lighten. My cousin will wake soon. Dina will get here. The diner will open. These are the few things I’m certain of.

“Roger checked in, but I told him you were sleeping. Kirsten’s going to be all right. Her parents are with her.”

I clasp my hands in my lap and let out a relieved breath, trying to imagine how Mr. and Mrs. Meyer felt getting a call like that. Again.

My mom brushes my hair away from my face. “Do you want to talk about it now?”

I nod, slowly, but then a minute passes. And another. “Can I just sit with you?”

Minutes tick by. The sky brightens.

The doorbell rings downstairs.

“I’ll go let him in,” I say, the words like cement on my tongue.

My feet are heavy on the stairs, though I’m only in slippers, not my boots. I walk through the empty diner, touching the chrome-edged countertops and worn vinyl booths. Everything my grandfather built and my family has worked to keep.

I take a deep breath, turning the key in the door, but the person waiting for me is Marcus, not Sheriff Wood. The tension leaves his face when he steps inside.

“You’re here.”

“For the moment.”

His eyes flash distressed. “I didn’t tell them anything, Sonia. I mean, I kept it to the bare facts. Kirsten was upset about Gretchen, you got into an argument, and she fell.”

I give a weak smile. “You’re almost as good at this as me.”

He hesitates. “Maybe you won’t have to tell. There’s a chance Kirsten won’t remember. Or if she does—”

“I have to, Marcus.”

He doesn’t speak.

“I’ve hurt too many people.” I lean into his chest. “More than I would’ve if I’d told the truth from the start.”

He runs his hand gently over my back. “It just doesn’t seem fair. It’s like she won after all.”

I frown up at him and shake my head. “Gretchen didn’t win anything.”

There’s a heavy rap on the door and I turn my head to see Sheriff Wood peering at us through the glass. I start to pull away, but Marcus draws me back. He stares at me for half a second and then leans down, pressing his lips, warm and gentle, against mine. My body surges with an instant of bliss, before it fades to sadness, and finally relief.

“For whatever happens next,” Marcus says.