You Owe Me a Murder(22)

Alex squeezed my hand under the table. He thought I was upset because of what I’d seen. He didn’t know about my history with Connor. No one here did, other than Miriam, and I wasn’t even sure how much she knew. Part of me wanted everyone to know. It warred with my other half that wanted to bury the information as a secret.

Kendra stabbed at the eggs on her plate but never lifted her fork to eat any. She seemed focused on simply destroying them.

Tasha slipped into the room. Her hair was pulled back with a scarf. She wasn’t wearing any makeup and her skin looked ashy. We all sank lower into our seats, watching her as if she were a bomb technician and the room were at risk for exploding if we moved too quickly.

“Okay, I know everyone had a rough night,” Tasha said.

“How’s Miriam?” Jamal asked.

Tasha rubbed her palms on her jeans. “She’s about as well as can be expected. Sophie’s with her. Miriam’s talked to her parents and they’re on their way.”

“Is the trip canceled?” Kendra asked. I iced over. It hadn’t occurred to me that they might cancel the trip, but now that Kendra said it, it made sense. Connor was dead.

I hadn’t wanted to come, but now that I was here, I didn’t want to go back.

“The program has decided to go ahead with the trip but will refund partial fees if anyone wants to return to Vancouver.” Tasha tossed back her coffee as if it were a shot of whiskey. She winced at the heat and then wrapped her hands around the chipped white mug. “Changing your flight will depend on what kind of ticket you have and on which airline; you might have to buy another ticket if you want to leave early. Talk to your family before you decide anything.”

“What if we want to stay?” Jamal asked. He chewed his fingernails. The flesh around what was left of the nails was shredded and red. He glanced up and down the table, taking in how everyone was staring at him. “I mean, Connor and I weren’t, like, friends or anything.”

Jazmin wrinkled up her face. “Nice. You know it’s not all about you, right?”

Jamal threw his hands up in the air. “I know. I’m just saying that I don’t see what the point would be of going home. I feel bad the guy decided to kill himself, but it has nothing to do with me.”

“We don’t know if Connor killed himself,” Tasha said, cutting short Jamal’s rant. “It might have been an accident. There’s nothing to be gained by getting peeved at one another. There’s no right or wrong way to handle this.”

Jamal glared at Jazmin, vindicated. I refused to look over at Kendra. I wondered if she’d told Tasha about the argument Connor and I had had at the station.

“To answer your question, if you want to finish the program, that’s fine. Most of the fees, dormitory charges, and activities were all prepaid. I’m here for the duration.” Her voice was flat. She didn’t sound thrilled about the idea. “So, anyone who wants to continue, we will. I’m going to encourage you to talk to your parents, if you haven’t already. The program heads have already reached out to your families, by phone if they could reach them and otherwise via email, so they know what’s happened. There wasn’t much on the schedule today, but the optional tour to Hampton Court is nixed. I’m going to meet with each of you one-on-one to check in and see how you’re doing and what your plans are. If anyone’s struggling, we’ve arranged for you to have access to a local counselor. Now isn’t the time to bottle this inside. If you’re having trouble, you need to tell me.” Tasha pushed her sleeves up, her arms strong, the muscles defined under her dark skin.

“So that’s the plan. I’m putting a sheet by the door with times to meet with me. Sign up and then come to the library for your scheduled slot. Otherwise you’re free to do whatever you want today. I’ve arranged for the van to take anyone who wants to go to a nondenominational service this evening. We’ll pick up our regular schedule tomorrow to see the Victoria and Albert Museum. Any questions?”

I held my breath, waiting to see if Kendra would say anything, but all the fight seemed to have leaked out of her.

No one spoke, so Tasha stood, and that seemed to be the cue everyone was waiting for to be released. I signed up for my time, the pen dragging on the paper, and then hauled myself back upstairs to my room to call my parents.

The phone rang forever before my dad picked up. “Kim? What’s wrong?”

I heard my mom pick up the extension. “Kimberly?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” I said. That wasn’t true—?everything was wrong—?but I wasn’t entirely sure how to put it into words.

“Then why are you calling?” Mom asked.

I pulled my phone away from my head and looked at it. Her response made no sense. “They told us to call,” I said eventually. “Tasha said you guys know what happened, that they told you.” My voice cracked.

“It’s okay, pumpkin, it’s just that it’s one in the morning here. When you called, we thought something else might have happened,” Dad said.

I winced. I’d entirely forgotten about the time change. “Sorry.”

The sandpaper sound of my dad rubbing the stubble on his chin came through the phone. I could picture him sitting at the edge of their king-size bed, the mountain of throw pillows my mom liked clustered at his feet like begging dogs. “How are you coping?”