You Owe Me a Murder(74)

I felt the top stair under my foot behind me. I made it down three or four steps before I heard her bolt for her bedroom and slam the door shut behind her.

“Help!” she screamed. I heard a screech as she yanked her window wide open. “Someone help me,” she yelled into the street.

I flew down the last of the steps, skidding on the wood floor. I bolted for the back door. The woman wasn’t screaming anymore. If I had to guess, she’d gone for the phone to call 9-1-1 or whatever the hell they called it here. I shoved my feet into my shoes and ran alongside the house. I peeked my head over the gate. The houses all around had flipped on their lights and there was a guy in his bathrobe standing outside the home next door, looking up and down the street. He was holding a cricket bat. If I went out that way, he’d see me and force me to stay until the cops came.

I was shaking. Maybe I should just wait for the police. Give myself up.

No.

My feet slid on the wet ground as I ran for the back of the garden. I heard the distant sound of a siren. The fence was covered in blackberry bushes. The thorns and branches snagged at my fleece, scratching my arms and face as I ran straight into them. My hands reached through, finding the chainlink fence hidden behind the plant. I vaulted up and over, using strength I didn’t even know I had.

Mud squished up around my shoes as I landed with a plop on the other side, making me feel cemented in place. This garden wasn’t overgrown but instead tidy and perfect, as though the homeowner trimmed it with nail clippers. The entire back of the house was a huge glass conservatory, which thankfully was still black.

I was picking my way through the yard when a bright light clicked on, blinding me. I flung my hand over my face and stopped dead. If it was the cops, I didn’t want to give them a reason to shoot. It was silent except for the sound of the sirens getting closer. That’s when I realized it must have been a motion-sensor light. I opened my eyes, but I was still alone and the house was still completely dark. They were either sleeping through all of this or weren’t home. The sound of tires squealing one street over jump-started my heart. The police were almost here.

I had to get moving. I had to run.





Thirty-Four


August 30


1 Day Remaining


I ran and then walked for miles. I was afraid to get on the Tube. I couldn’t handle the idea of being in such a well-lit place surrounded by crowds of people. For now, I preferred the shadows. I ducked into a doorway and pulled off my fleece. I shivered in my T-shirt in the cool summer night air, but on the off chance the police were looking for someone with a dark jacket, I didn’t want to wear it. I shoved it into my bag and kept walking.

For a while I didn’t know where I was. One street led to another. Stores, banks, and pubs lined the roads. I would start to think about what had happened and then my brain would go completely blank as if it had shorted out from too much information. The loud buzzing in my ears that had started at the house was still a nonstop background noise.

A group of drunk people stumbled out of a cab in front of me. A guy in a Manchester United jersey swayed in place, staring at me, and then started laughing. “You talking to yourself, crazy girl? Having yourself a nice conversation?”

I jerked back. I’d been mumbling to myself. How long have I been doing that? What the hell was I saying? I shook my head and crossed the empty street.

“Nothing wrong with being crazy,” the guy called out after me. “All the best people are!”

I turned down another street. It looked like every other one I’d been on. My legs were heavy and I fought the urge to start running again. It seemed by now I should have walked the entire length of London. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was hopelessly lost, not just in the city, but altogether, as if I’d fallen through a portal that had taken me to an alternate reality, one that was anything but Wonderland.

A police car passed me, then slowed. When it reached the end of the block, it turned around and came back. Shit. I glanced to either side, trying to figure out if the car could follow me if I ran.

The window rolled down. “Everything okay?” The officer smiled.

I nodded. “Mm-hmm.”

The car kept pace with me as I walked. “It’s awfully late to be out walking on your own.”

“Broke up with my boyfriend. Just wanted to get some air.”

“Do you need a ride?”

I wanted to scream for him to get the hell away from me, but that wasn’t going to make this situation go well. “Nope. I’m fine.” There was no way I was admitting I was lost.

The cop stared at me. I could feel him taking in my description, mentally memorizing me. “All right then, you take care.”

I smiled and raised my hand as he pulled away. I managed to hold myself together until he turned the corner and then my entire body broke into tremors. I ached to be home. Not at Metford, but home home. In my own room, my own bed. The pink afghan my grandmother had crocheted pulled up around me. My favorite books on the shelf above my desk, and the faint outlines on the ceiling of where glow-in-the-dark star stickers used to be. I peered up into the sky. Our forebears navigated by stars, after all. But it was too bright in the city to spot a single one.

Then the street opened into a large green space. I followed the metal fence that ran along the sidewalk until I saw the sign. HYDE PARK. I grabbed the wrought-iron gate, practically hugging it in relief. It was okay—?I knew where I was now. I could walk back to Metford from here. I wasn’t lost anymore. I glanced down at my phone. It was almost two in the morning.