Lies You Never Told Me(38)

“Why’d they let her go with someone they didn’t know?” I ask. “Why didn’t they call Mom, or me?”

“She’s in a mainstream classroom,” says the other officer, a guy named Larson. He’s pale and balding, with a long, muscular jaw. “They have lots of kids to keep an eye on. And they said she seemed to know the woman picking her up.”

It doesn’t make sense. I’ve gone through everyone I can think of, everyone Vivi might know and trust, but they’re all either too old or they don’t have brown hair. And Vivi’s trusting, but she knows not to go with strangers.

“Why weren’t you there, Gabe?” Mom wipes at her face, looking at me with round, bewildered eyes. I wish I could disappear under that gaze.

“I told you. I got a message from the office. They said it was from you.” My head spins. I try to remember exactly what it said. “You said you were picking her up.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was stuck in a meeting all afternoon. And why wouldn’t I call your cell if I had a message for you?”

The question stops me in my tracks. I hadn’t even thought of that. I’d been so eager to hear I had an afternoon free—so excited to get a chance to see Catherine—that I hadn’t stopped to consider.

Before I can say anything, my mom bursts into another torrent of tears. Her shoulders shudder, her breath coming in sharp gasps.

“Mrs. Jiménez, please. We need you to stay calm. Vivienne needs you to stay calm,” says Huntington.

“It’s Vivi. She goes by Vivi,” I say. Mom gives a little gasp of pain at the name.

“Vivi,” repeats the woman. “I’m sorry. Vivi. But look—we need you to be calm in case we find her and she needs our help. You can’t do anything for her if you’re too upset.”

I hear the words, but my brain refuses to imagine what that might mean. If she needs our help. If she’s hurt, somehow. If she’s . . .

A knock comes at the door.

No one moves for a moment. Mom stares across the room, trembling. The two cops seem to be communicating silently with each other. I’m the one who finally gets up and goes to see who it is.

A slender brunette girl stands next to Vivi, holding her hand. Rowdy lingers next to Vivi’s shins, tail low and anxious.

Vivi has a towering ice cream cone she’s licking evenly around each side, like I taught her. Her face is dirty and one pigtail sags low, but she beams up at me.

I look again at the brunette, and I realize with a jolt that it’s Sasha. Smiling.

The color doesn’t suit her. She looks sallow, like spoiled milk. She wears cut-off shorts, a snug plaid shirt, more casual than she usually dresses. For just a sliver of a second her eyes glitter with malice.

Then she turns a thousand-watt smile past me, toward my mom.

“Hey, guys, we’re . . .” She trails off as her eyes fall to the cops. “Oh my God, has something happened? What’s going on?”

Rowdy low-crawls across the room and disappears into his crate. Mom jumps up and grabs Vivi, squeezing her so tightly the ice cream wobbles dangerously.

The numb, detached feeling that’s had hold of me lets go. The world constricts to a tiny, blood-red point with Sasha at its center. She looks up at me with wide-eyed confusion, not a trace of menace in her expression.

“What’s going on?” she asks. “Why are the cops here?”

Officer Larson stands up and steps toward her. “And who are you, miss?”

“I’m Sasha Daley.” She looks around from person to person. “I’m Gabe’s girlfriend. Or . . . I mean, I was.” She gives a soft, melancholy laugh. “Now we’re just friends.”

Larson scribbles something in his notebook. “Did you take this little girl from her school this afternoon?”

Her expression is so earnest, so ingénue-perfect that, for a split second, I actually wonder if this really is just some big misunderstanding—if she really is as confused as she looks. “Yeah, I did. Why? Did I . . . did I do something wrong?”

Larson glances at his partner, then back at Sasha. “Well, no one seemed to know where she was. Did you talk to her mother about this?”

She shakes her head. “No. I . . . I thought it was all worked out.” She looks at me, almost beseechingly. “Gabe said he was busy and asked me to pick her up and watch her for the afternoon.”

My mouth drops open, but for a second nothing comes out. All I can do is shake my head. Everyone’s looking at me now.

“Gabe?” asks my mother. I can’t look at her. I can’t see anything in the room but Sasha. Sasha, whose brow is crumpled now like she’s about to cry.

“She’s lying,” I say. I fight to keep my voice controlled. It feels like my muscles are filled with something molten. I’ve never wanted to hit anything so badly in my life. “We broke up. Almost a month ago. Why would I ask her to get my sister? I don’t want her anywhere near my family.”

Real tears spring to Sasha’s eyes now. “Why would you say something like that?”

“Because you’re lying!” It comes out as a shout. Larson shifts his weight a little, but I can’t help it. My fists are knotted at my sides. “I never told you to pick her up!”