One of Us is Lying(48)
“Girls.” My mother’s voice is strained as she calls upstairs. “It’s time.”
That’s right. My entire family is watching Mikhail Powers Investigates together. Which is a circle of hell even Dante never imagined.
Maeve shuts her laptop as I heave myself to my feet. There’s a slight buzzing from inside my end table, and I open the drawer to pull out my Nate phone. Enjoy the show, his text says.
Not funny, I reply.
“Put that away,” Maeve says with mock severity. “Now is not the time.”
We head downstairs to the living room, where Mom has already settled into an armchair with an exceptionally full glass of wine. Dad’s in full Evening Executive mode, wearing his favorite casual fleece vest and surrounded by a half-dozen communication devices. A commercial for paper towels flashes across the television screen as Maeve and I sit side by side on the couch and wait for Mikhail Powers Investigates to start.
The show focuses on true crime and it’s pretty sensationalistic, but more credible than similar shows because of Mikhail’s hard-news background. He spent years as an anchor with one of the major networks, and brings a certain gravitas to the proceedings.
He always reads the beginning hook in his deep, authoritative voice while grainy police photos play across the screen.
A young mother disappears. A double life exposed. And one year later, a shocking arrest. Has justice finally been served?
A high-profile couple dead. A dedicated daughter suspected. Could her Facebook account hold the key to the killer’s identity?
I know the formula, so it shouldn’t be any surprise when it’s applied to me.
A high school student’s mysterious death. Four classmates with secrets to hide. When the police keep running into dead ends, what’s next?
Dread starts spreading through me: my stomach aches, my lungs compress, even my mouth has a horrible taste. For almost two weeks I’ve been questioned and scrutinized, whispered about and judged. I’ve had to deflect questions about Simon’s allegations with police and teachers, and watch their eyes harden as they read between the lines. I’ve waited for another shoe to drop; for the Tumblr to release a video of me accessing Mr. Camino’s files, or for the police to file charges. But nothing’s felt quite so raw and real as watching my class picture appear over Mikhail Powers’s shoulder on national television.
There’s footage of Mikhail and his team in Bayview, but he does most of his reporting from behind a sleek chrome desk in his Los Angeles studio. He has smooth dark skin and hair, expressive eyes, and the most perfectly fitted wardrobe I’ve ever seen. I have no doubt that if he’d managed to catch me alone, I’d have spilled all sorts of things I shouldn’t.
“But who are the Bayview Four?” Mikhail asks, staring intently into the camera.
“You guys have a name,” Maeve whispers, but not quietly enough that Mom doesn’t hear.
“Maeve, there is nothing funny about this,” she says tightly as the camera cuts to video of my parents’ offices.
Oh no. They’re starting with me.
Honor student Bronwyn Rojas comes from a high-achieving family traumatized by their youngest child’s lingering illness. Did the pressure to measure up compel her to cheat and take Yale out of her reach forever? Followed by a spokesperson from Yale confirming that I have not, in fact, applied yet.
We all get our turn. Mikhail examines Addy’s beauty pageant past, speaks with baseball analysts about the prevalence of high school juicing and its potential impact on Cooper’s career, and digs through the particulars of Nate’s drug bust and probation sentence.
“It’s not fair,” Maeve breathes into my ear. “They’re not saying anything about how his dad’s a drunk and his mom’s dead. Where’s the context?”
“He wouldn’t want that, anyway,” I whisper back.
I cringe my way through the show until an interview with a lawyer from Until Proven. Since none of our lawyers agreed to talk, Mikhail’s team tapped Until Proven as subject-matter experts. The lawyer they speak with, Eli Kleinfelter, doesn’t look even ten years older than me. He has wild curly hair, a sparse goatee, and intense dark eyes.
“Here’s what I’d say, if I were their lawyer,” he says, and I lean forward despite myself. “All the attention’s on these four kids. They’re getting dragged through the mud with no evidence tying them to any crime after weeks of investigation. But there was a fifth kid in the room, wasn’t there? And he seems like the type who might’ve had more than four enemies. So you tell me. Who else had a motive? What story’s not being told? That’s where I’d be looking.”
“Exactly,” Maeve says, drawing out each syllable.
“And you can’t assume Simon was the only person with access to the About That admin panel,” Eli continues. “Anybody could’ve gotten into that before he died and either viewed or changed those posts.”
I look at Maeve, but this time she doesn’t say anything. Just stares at the screen with a half smile on her face.
I can’t stop thinking about Eli’s words for the rest of the night. Even when I’m on the phone with Nate, half watching Battle Royale, which is better than a lot of the movies Nate likes. But between Mikhail Powers Investigates and our trip to the mall on Monday—which I’ve been thinking about nonstop in those spare moments when I’m not thinking about going to jail—I can’t concentrate. Too many other thoughts compete for brain space.