Undead Girl Gang(63)

My stomach clenches like someone grabbed it in a fist. Is the shoe still upstairs? Did Xander find a better hiding place for it? Or did he tuck it back behind his nightstand?

“I didn’t show it to my parents,” Riley continues, glancing over her shoulder at the dark funeral home. “It was just a shoe. It didn’t have Dayton’s name on it or anything. But my phone was dead, and I couldn’t stop thinking what if. I knew I could find Xander at June’s wake, and he could tell me that it was nothing. A random shoe. A dumb joke with one of his dumb friends. He would tell me I was wrong, and I’d apologize for snooping, and we’d be fine.”

She pushes on, aiming her face downward. I think she’s looking at the sidewalk, but it’s hard to tell without pupils. “I took the bike path through Aldridge Park because I remember Xander saying that he and June used to meet there. It was the halfway point between our houses. I ran for so long before I realized I was still holding the shoe. I’d run for blocks because of a fucking shoe, and I was holding it in my arms, cradling it like I had to keep it safe. And it was all suddenly so ridiculous to be so scared of a shoe that I just burst into tears. I didn’t want to accuse Xander of anything. I was just scared and shaken up because people I knew were dead. People do crazy things when they’re grieving. So, I went off the path to throw the shoe into the creek.”

I think of how slippery it was when I had to get the creek water for the resurrection spell. The algae built up on the rocks. The gush of running water.

“The creek was hella high because it had rained for a couple of days that week, and the slope was all rocks. I couldn’t see that well because I was still crying. But I managed to throw the shoe. I watched it splash near the other bank. But then I lost my balance. I slipped and fell and skidded all the way down to the water. I felt my wrist break right before my head went underwater for a minute. I remember how slimy the water was in my nose. Another rock caught me here.” She uses a knuckle to point at the slowly healing cut across her forehead. “And I must have passed out. Then there was nothing. But it wasn’t murder. It was an accident. I was stupid and I fell and I died.”

I touch my face, surprised that there are no tears. I thought maybe after a week, I would have fresh tears to shed for her. But her death feels so far away when it’s coming from her own lips.

“The shoe had to be Dayton’s,” I tell her. “Why else would my spell bring her back, too? Why does Xander have mushrooms growing out of his skin?”

She sobs into her broken wrist and shakes her head, miming an inability to speak. I take a step toward her, grabbing her shoulder with one hand. The color floods back into her eyes at my touch. Red veins and green-gold swirls and a pinprick of black in the center.

“It can’t be him,” she sobs. “It can’t be my brother. He must have had a good reason. Or even a bad reason! Something that doesn’t mean he killed June and Dayton. You know him.”

“I know that he’s covered in mushrooms.”

She jerks away from me, turning back into a corpse. “Then you screwed up! You’ve screwed up before!”

“I didn’t screw up so bad that I made him murder June and Dayton! I guess you can thank your parents for that.”

“Fuck you!” she spits. “He’s my brother, Mila! He’s the first friend I ever had. I know him better than you ever could. He wouldn’t do something like this. You’re wrong. You think just because you did one big spell that you’re good at this, but you’re not. Everything you’ve touched has gone to shit! Look at what you did to me!” She holds her arms out, showcasing her broken bones and bloated skin. “You think this makes you a good witch? You should have left me in the fucking ground. You should have left all of us alone. Don’t ruin Xander, too.”

Her chest shudders and heaves. She looks so pitiful, and I hate her for it. She’s chosen to protect her brother rather than be on my team. She’s leaving me alone, again. Only this time it’s on purpose.

“The coven was right,” I say softly. “You’re an abomination. My best friend—my real best friend—wouldn’t protect a murderer. So whoever you are—whatever you are—you can go straight to hell. Because you aren’t the Riley Greenway I wanted to bring back.”

I leave her crying in front of the house she’s not welcome in anymore, the gash in her forehead spreading wider and wider the farther away I get.



* * *





I don’t sleep.

Fully dressed and with a belly full of Pepto-Bismol to keep the panic-pukes to a minimum, I sit on the edge of my bed, looking for the number for the police department. But even after I’ve found it, I keep scrolling. Googling. Checking other sources. I wind around the internet in a Fibonacci spiral until my mind quiets to a cool gray fog. Only then can I call the police department with an anonymous tip that Alexander Greenway was seen in Aldridge Park the night of the Fairmont Academy double suicide. I give the skeptical voice on the other end of the line Xander’s license plate number and his exact height and weight.

I let my family see me while they eat breakfast and feed them lies about studying at Starbucks as my excuse to leave. I don’t care if any of them believe me. Izzy asks for a Frappuccino she knows that I won’t bring back.

Denim jacket on. Boots laced. Back in the car.