Aftermath(71)

“What are they?” Mae asks.

I start to answer, but the detective begins going through the stack, explaining. I see articles and typed notes and —

“Hey, is that the police report?” I say.

He slaps the folder shut and looks at Mae. “Your niece has been investigating the incident at North Hampton. Trying to clear her brother’s name.”

“What?” she says.

“No,” I say. “Those pages were put into my locker. They’re part of this whole thing.”

“This conspiracy,” the detective says. “Against you.”

I look him in the eye. “I have never used that word. It’s not a conspiracy. It’s an escalation of bullying.”

“So you’re telling me that the person who is blaming you for these incidents is the same one who’s trying to say your brother didn’t collude with Harley Stewart and Isaac Wickham?”

“Maybe my persecutor wanted me to start claiming Luka was innocent. Turn people against me that way. But I knew better than to even read that stuff.”

“You’re telling me you haven’t read any of this?” He taps the folder.

“I didn’t dare,” I say. “Claiming that my brother wasn’t guilty only raises hopes I can’t afford to have. Of course I don’t want him to be guilty, but I know he was.”

“He was,” the detective says, and his voice softens, just a little. “I do understand how hard that is to hear. But Luka had a gun. Multiple witnesses saw him holding it. He was fully involved. We had a very credible source who verified that.”

“Harley,” I say.

“The terms of Harley Stewart’s plea bargain do not allow me to discuss his statement, but Luka was not an idle bystander who happened to find a gun.”

“I know that,” I say, my voice low. “The shooters were his friends. Luka had a gun. Therefore, Luka was involved.” I point at the folder. “I don’t know what’s in there, but my only guess is that someone wanted me proclaiming Luka’s innocence to discredit me. To turn others against me. But you can analyze that for fingerprints. I unfolded the pages, saw what they were, shoved them into my locker and left them there. The only reason I didn’t throw them out was because I was afraid if someone found me with them, I’d get blamed, just like I am now.”

I look at him. “I didn’t do any of this. But if you think I did, then I’m okay with that, because it means you’ll investigate, which is more than Mr. Vaughn cared to do. Whatever you decide, though, please look for Tiffany. She’s in danger.” I put my hand over the bandage on my arm. “She’s definitely in danger.”

Skye

We find Jesse’s parents in the hall. Dr. Mandal hugs me and says Jesse is just in the restroom, and he’ll want to see me before we leave. Then she turns to Mae.

“I trust this has convinced you that your niece isn’t orchestrating her own persecution?” she says.

Mae’s gaze shoots my way, giving me a guilty look.

Dr. Mandal says, “No, Skye would never complain to me about you. She talked to Jasser, who relayed it to me when I made the mistake of presuming you were supporting your niece.”

“I was confused. I spoke without thinking —”

“There’s nothing to think. It’s about trusting your niece enough to hear her out and then make a decision.” Before Mae can respond, Dr. Mandal turns to me. “I’d like you to come by the hospital tomorrow morning so I can check your arm. Jasser will bring you. I won’t expect him to go to school under the circumstances.”

“I can bring her,” Mae says.

“Jasser will.”

“No, really, I —”

Dr. Mandal cuts her off with a slow, appraising look. “Do you have a problem with my son?”

Mae flushes. “No, of course not.”

“Good. Then he’ll bring Skye. I’ll leave my car with the pass for him. Jasser?” she says as he approaches. “You’ll bring Skye to the hospital in the morning.”

“Sure.”

“You two can make arrangements. We’ll head on outside. Ms. Benassi? I’d like to speak to you.”

I can tell Mae really doesn’t want to hear anything more from Dr. Mandal, but she nods and follows them as I say goodbye to Jesse.

We’re almost to the condo before Mae speaks.

“I’m taking some time off work,” she says. “You’re right – I’ve been neglecting you.”

“I never said —”

“If I’m going to be your guardian, I have to act like it. You need me right now. So I’m staying home.”

“I’d rather you didn’t.” I chose my words with care, but she still flinches.

I try again. “I don’t need you to stay with me.” The time for that was back when Gran had her stroke. “We can do something this weekend, if you’d like, but I’d really rather not interfere with your schedule.”

“You aren’t —”

“Just go to work, okay? Please.”

I spend my night fixated on that folder from the police station. I see the flash of the report on the shooting. Then I see the detective quickly closing the folder. I remember his expression when I said I hadn’t read the pages. It looked like relief.