These Deadly Games(71)

Zoey’s parents and grandmother had slept through the night. They hadn’t heard us slip out and back in. And the police had no reason to suspect us.

As our parents came over, they hugged us fiercely, as though some creature had descended from the sky and snatched Brady from the space between his and Zoey’s houses, sparing the rest of us. Mom and Dad nearly suffocated me in their embrace, and Caelyn clung to me, even when the other siblings her age sprawled on the living room carpet to play with Zoey’s LEGO set. Andrew sat in the corner, looking so helpless and pitiful as he zoned out at the kids playing, eyes red-rimmed like he’d been holding back tears all morning.

“D’you have security cameras?” I heard Chief Sanchez ask in the kitchen, where the parents were gathered. I knew him from school—he ran the DARE program, told us how drugs would turn our brains to mush.

“Yeah,” said Mrs. Bloom. I gave Zoey a wide-eyed look over Caelyn’s head. She sat between us, grasping my arm.

Only at the front door, Zoey mouthed. We’d snuck out the side one.

“We don’t,” Dad chimed in. “We thought about it, but the crime rate’s so low and we’ve never gotten our packages stolen, I figured it’d be a sunk cost.” The other parents murmured similar excuses.

“We’ll check the neighborhood,” said Sanchez, “see if there’s any footage to look at.” My stomach sank. Was there a recording out there of us running around someone’s backyard? It never occurred to me the houses might be watching.

Zoey beckoned the four of us out into the foyer. I managed to disentangle myself from Caelyn’s grip, promising to be back soon, and slinked past Andrew to the front door, where my friends huddled.

“We have to say something,” Zoey whispered.

“But we’ll get in so much trouble,” I said, looking to Akira for backup, but she remained quiet.

“We’ll get in even more trouble if we got caught on camera,” said Zoey. “They’ll know we were lying this whole time.”

“But maybe we didn’t,” I said.

“It’s too late anyway, though, right?” said Matty. “Even if we say something now, they’ll know we’ve been lying.”

“Right.” Randall nodded. “I say we wait and see. What difference will a few hours make?”

From our strained expressions, you could tell we were all thinking it.

It’d make a difference to Brady.





CHAPTER 31


Halfway to the hospital, Akira’s phone jangled in the passenger seat. My heart twisted at the peaceful ringtone—the theme from Minecraft, her favorite video game. I groped for it without slowing and dared a quick glance at the screen.

FaceTime call from Randall.

I cut the wheel and pulled onto the shoulder of the one-lane highway. The car behind me blared its horn and swerved, and the driver, some hulking dude with a buzz cut, gave me the finger.

“Get over yourself!” I yelled before answering the call. I half expected to see Randall facedown in a ditch or something as a shadowy figure gloated nearby, but instead, Randall’s perfectly alive face filled the screen. “Oh, thank God,” I said. “Are you okay?”

“Crystal?” Randall scrunched his brow, confused. Even on video, I could see his eyes were bloodshot and bleary. I bet he hadn’t slept a wink. “Where’s Akira?” Of course he was calling—he was probably wondering why she hadn’t come to the hospital yet.

“She … uh…” The words stuck in my throat. Was she alive or dead? And what if he didn’t believe Akira’s fall was an accident? Zoey had been quick to blame me for the brownies yesterday. Would Randall do the math here and come up with the wrong solution? “She forgot her phone in my car,” I said, skirting around the question. “You still at the hospital? How’s your dad?”

“He’s okay.” He still looked confused. “We went home to crash for a few hours, but my mom dragged us back here around six. Dad’s out of the ICU, sleeping now.” Randall suddenly held his phone so close I could see the pores on his nose. “Geez, it looks like a bomb went off in your face.”

I shot back, “You’re one to talk,” as another voice chimed in, “How rude!”

Wait, I knew that voice …

Randall got smaller as he lowered the phone. “She knows I’m kidding.” But he mock-pouted at me and shook his head, like, not kidding.

Another face edged on-screen, trying to get a better look at me. My heart went cold.

“Lucia?”

No. Panic clawed at my throat. She was An0nym0us1. She was desperate to keep us from spilling the truth about her and destroying her future. She’d beaten me to the hospital. She’d gotten to Randall first. I was too late. No, no, no.

“Hi, Crystal.” She gave a little wave, wiggling her fingers. Gloating.

“Get away from him.” My heart beat wildly as Lucia’s smile slid off her face. How could she have stabbed my sister? How could she leave her alone and bleeding? How?

“Whoa, chill.” Randall centered himself on the screen. “She texted last night, and I told her about my dad.” A blur of yellow, pink, and green filled the screen. “So she brought flowers for my mom. See?” Lucia must’ve sent sympathy texts to all of us. Fake sympathy. Randall was so freaking gullible.