Grown(63)

Derrick doesn’t know.

Outside, the rain lets up, but the clouds remain, dark and threatening.





Chapter 80


There’s Only One Like It




“You have some fucking nerve calling me after what you’ve done!”

Jessica is scalding hot. I’m surprised she even answered. So I don’t give her time to hang up on me before I ask the question.

“Did you see the picture I sent you? The watch? Do you recognize it?”

“I shouldn’t be talking to a killer,” she seethes.

I wipe the acid off my face. First time someone’s called me a murderer.

“The watch. In the screenshot. It’s Korey’s, right? Korey was wearing it when I saw him that night. He never took it off—you know that. It has his grandma’s diamonds in the center.”

“He . . . told you that,” she murmurs in utter disbelief.

“Yeah. So how did Richie get it?”

Silence.

“What?”

“Richie has Korey’s watch. He was wearing it at the funeral.”

More silence. More breathing.

“Jessica, please. Just tell me, how did Richie get Korey’s watch?”

“Why should I tell you anything? Everything that’s happened has been because of you. Korey went crazy after you left him. He couldn’t eat, sleep, or record. He loved you. More than anyone. Did you know that? He moved heaven and earth for you.”

“You think it’s right for him to love a kid?”

“You weren’t a child! You knew exactly what you were doing.”

“I was doing what he told me to do,” I snap back. “But that doesn’t matter anymore, Jessica. He’s dead. I didn’t kill him. I don’t remember much, but I know he had his watch on that night. So how did Richie get it?”

Jessica takes a deep breath, righting herself.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says in an impossibly calm voice. “Don’t fucking call me again.”

The phone clicks.





Chapter 81


Charged




“They’ve found sufficient evidence for an arrest warrant,” Mr. Pulley says from across his desk, face sagging, as if already defeated. “Now that you’re eighteen, they can try you as an adult.”

Mom’s bottom lip trembles as tears fall. Daddy rubs her shoulders.

A sob climbs up my throat. “I didn’t do it, Mr. Pulley. I swear I didn’t.”

“I know, sweetheart. I know. But we should think about strategy. I spoke to the DA’s office and worked it out that you’ll turn yourself in on Friday morning.”

Mr. Pulley continues going over our options, suggesting expert witnesses and psych evaluations, my PTSD diagnosis key to our defense. The question floats around my head until it nearly drowns me, and I gasp for air.

“Do you have a report of what they found on Korey?” I blurt out.

Mr. Pulley raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Like, one of those lists of all the items they found on his, um, body?”

“What you wanna know about that for?” Mom asks, Daddy still holding her hand.

Mr. Pulley gives me a curious glance but combs through his files.

“Yeah, uh, sure. Right here.”

I scan down the itemized list. No watch. But I know I saw the watch. I remember the light hitting it before he hit me.

Or am I confusing that with Atlanta? It’s all a blur . . .

“What are you looking for?”

All the grown-ups in the room stare at me. I grip the folder, weighing my options. If I tell them what I’m thinking, they may think I’m really crazy. Not even sure if the theory makes sense, and I hate upsetting Mom. If only there was a way to prove that watch was on Korey.

“Um, nothing.”

Mr. Pulley raises an eyebrow. “Enchanted, is there anything you want to tell me?”

I shake my head.

“OK. Well . . . you’ll have two days to turn yourself in. I suggest you . . . spend time with your family. Then be ready to fight like hell!”





Chapter 82


A Visit




As birds chirp to the rising sun, I hear the unmistakable sounds of an old clanking engine puttering to a stop in the driveway. The squeaky storm door slams. Then Mom’s snappy voice interrupts the peace of the morning.

“What are you doing here? And at this time of day!”

“I still get the news,” a woman answers back, and my chest tightens.

Silence falls between them.

“All right, come on then,” Mom yells. “Let’s hear it!”

“Hear what?” the woman says, amused.

“The ‘I told you so’ speech. Go on. That’s what you came here for, right?”

“Don’t need to tell you something you already know.”

Her words cut deep. They always have.

“Now, can I see my granddaughter or are you going to keep me out here all day?”

“We . . . have to bring her in tomorrow,” Mom sniffles through tears.

“Then let me have today.”