Down to the Liar(7)

I hand him the computer. “You were friends with Sam, right?”

He nods, though on him it’s more a head-duck than a nod.

“Do you still talk to him?”

“Not really,” Carter says. “He’s not on the forums much anymore. Kind of a shame. He always seemed to know the answer.”

My chest tightens, so I nod back instead of speaking.

He starts off down the hall, but I stop him. “Thanks, Carter. For helping with the job. You didn’t have to.”

He keeps his eyes downcast as he says, “I know her.” Then he scurries away before I can say anything else too far outside his comfort zone.

“Ms. Dupree. Loitering in the hallway, I see.”

That smug observation would only come from Dean Porter. Sure enough, she’s snuck up behind me like a titian-haired sniper. I want to roll my eyes at her, but the last thing I need is for her to haul me into her office. If I never see the inside of that floral monstrosity again, it will be too soon.

“I believe fourth period is still currently in session.”

I hand her the pass I always keep on my person. I have a stack of them in my book bag for just such an emergency. I am an expert forger, after all.

The dean doesn’t bother examining the pass. She knows it’s as fake as the IDs I unloaded on her desk last October. But she also knows she can’t prove it without talking to the teacher whose signature I forged, and Mr. Ludzinski owes me a favor. Even if she could get him to back her up, I’m a protected species at St. Aggie’s these days. President Rasmussen likes me, which means I can get away with pretty much anything short of setting the library on fire.

“Get to class.” She levels her serious-as-a-train-wreck gaze at me. But as soon as her back is turned, I smile. She’s carrying her laptop, and she’s headed toward Ms. Shirley’s computer lab. It was too good an opportunity to pass up. A window into the dean’s personal computer? Yes, please.

I’m about halfway to fourth period when I pass the door to the chapel. Skyla is kneeling in front of the statue of St. Nicholas and lighting a candle. I almost keep going. She hired me to make the attacks stop, not to counsel her through the experience. But Mike’s advice echoes in my brain: Follow the victim. Maybe I can get something out of her while she’s in the mood for confession.

I kneel next to her, clumsily making the sign of the cross. I don’t pray very much, or, you know, ever. But I can fake the motions well enough.

“He’s the patron saint of thieves,” I say, indicating the statue. “We go way back, St. Nick and I.”

“He’s also the saint of children,” she says quietly, not looking at me.

“You say ‘tomato’…”

“What can I do for you, Julep? I’ve already served you the privacy of all of my friends on a silver platter.”

“If they’re not responsible for the attacks, they have nothing to fear from me. I’ll push the deactivate button on the spyware myself the second this is over.”

“Well then, what do you want? It’s kind of hard to hold a conversation with you and God at the same time.”

“I get that a lot.” I light my own candle, wondering where the patron saint of children was when Tyler was shot. “Are you sure you don’t want me to make it public? Taking down your attackers, I mean. I can ruin them for you.”

She sighs. “And what good would that do?”

“They would never do it to you, or anyone else, ever again. You’d be doing the school a public service.”

She doesn’t respond for several minutes, but then she settles back on her heels and faces me.

“I’m not interested in doing anyone any favors. I just want to survive this. I’m not strong like you or Bryn.”

“Then you can lean on us. You’re not alone in this if you don’t want to be.”

Skyla’s gaze drops to her hands lying folded and limp in her lap. “I know.” She seems to be thinking something she’s not sure how to say. I wait for her to figure it out. I have time.

“Garrett’s been very supportive. Not just during all this awfulness, but since we started dating last year. My parents…they’ve always been so wrapped up in their music careers and each other, I’ve only ever been an afterthought to them. I’ve spent holidays alone since I was six. But then Garrett came along and made me feel taken care of. I don’t want to lose that. I just want to go back to what it was like before all this started happening. Can you do that?”