Chapter 21

"So, you think Piper caught Mr. Davis doing something shady?" A whisper of terror passes over the back of my neck. He could've been outside the tent when Jacey and I were talking. He could've painted that message.

"I don't know," Alexandra says, brown skin blushing rose in the early-morning light. "But we have to consider the possibility. Someone wanted her out of the club. The last place she went was the school, looking for him."

"I still think this is ridiculous." Jacey looks to Noah for help. "Okay, so Piper was investigating the soccer team, but we don't know that she found anything."

I turn to Alexandra. "You never listened in while Piper was recording?"

"Believe me, I tried. But she was so careful. All I've got is this scrap of paper. There are a couple more initials, like the letter C ." She points to some scribbles at the bottom of the page. "Looks like ‘Where are the ROTs?' But the O could be a D . I don't know." She shrugs and stuffs the paper back into her pocket.

"Random drug tests," Tyler says suddenly. "RDTs. Maybe Piper figured out it was a drug thing."

"It wasn't drugs," I blurt, realizing too late how defensive I sound. But they're wrong. Grant would never do that.

"Let's think about this," Alexandra says, trying to calm me but only adding to my irritation. "If it was drugs, then the C could stand for—"

"Coach, obviously," I say. "The athletics director wasn't going to let Mr. Davis keep his coaching job if they had another losing streak. Mr. Davis might've panicked. If he's involved in some sort of cover-up for the boys' soccer team, maybe Piper found out. And he caught on."

"It could explain why that cop was so eager to send me on my way." Tyler picks up a branch and starts plucking the needles from it one by one. "Maybe Mr. Davis has the Grayling PD in his pocket."

"Then what are we supposed to do?" I ask. "We can't go to the cops—"

"Not that cop," Tyler says. "But we could head down the mountain right now and demand to speak to someone else. There are too many of us to ignore."

"It's not enough." I wind a section of hair around my finger so tightly some strands snap off. Their frazzled ends blow in the wind. "Piper's pack is gone. The only proof we have she even went to see Mr. Davis is your word."

"The recorder." Tyler stops plucking pine needles and looks up. "Piper always had that recorder on her."

"In her jacket pocket," Jacey adds, nodding.

"So, then," Tyler says, dropping the branch and trampling it, "where is it?" He looks at me, and I freeze.

"It could've been in the bag with the rest of her stuff at the hospital," I say, a tremor in my voice. Only I'm not sure. When I had that hospital bag, I was too busy searching for Piper's phone to register anything else.

"Maybe the recorder wasn't on her," Noah says with a shrug, wandering over to peer down the face of the cliff. "It could be down there somewhere."

"We should talk to Mr. Davis," Jacey offers. "If Piper spoke to him that day, maybe he can tell us something about her state of mind or where she was headed."

"But if they did meet, why is he keeping it a secret?" I ask. "If he saw Piper that afternoon and she was distraught enough to hurt herself, why not tell my parents? He never even bothered to mention it."

Alexandra hugs her notebook to her chest. "We should head down the mountain. We can tell the cops—good cops—everything we know, and they can question Mr. Davis."

"If we accuse our teacher of hurting Piper," Jacey says, getting worked up, "it will ruin him. Drug gossip is one thing, but you can't just shake off a rumor that you tried to kill a student. We need more proof."

"No," I say, shaking my head, even though a second ago I was on her side. I have no idea what to do. "I think Alexandra has a point."

"Of course you do, Savannah." Jacey's voice is low and caustic. "You didn't hesitate to sell out your own sister. So why would you stop to consider the life of your teacher?"

Whatever has been keeping me levelheaded suddenly breaks off with a crack. "Oh, and you're so much better?" I trample a clump of wildflowers on my way toward her, blond locks blowing in front of my face, sticking to my lips. I must look feral.

"Hey, let's talk this out like rational campers," Noah says with a forced, grating calm. He glances around, scratching his head. "We could tell Mr. Davis we need to take Savannah back down the mountain. We'll say she's not doing well with the Piper situation. He'll let us leave, as long as nobody tips him off about this drug cover-up theory."

"I don't know," Alexandra says, a panicked trill to her voice. "If Mr. Davis wrote that threat on the tent, he's more aware of how much Savannah knows than we're giving him credit for."

"That's why we should go now," I say, "before he makes it back down and covers his tracks." Somewhere in the trees, a bird makes a high-pitched chirp like a wakeup call. The rest of camp—Mr. Davis included—will be up soon.

"The best thing we can do is split up," Noah says. "Two people can head down while the rest of us stay."

"And you think Mr. Davis is just going to ignore the fact that two students are missing?" Tyler throws his hands up. "Today is Sunday. We're all headed down in a few hours anyway. Let's play it cool. As soon as we get back, we'll go to the cops."

A few heads nod, followed by a low murmur of consent. Tyler and Alexandra walk toward the trail, a fervor in their steps. Noah and Jacey hesitate, then follow.

I stay where I am in the weeds, wanting to argue some more.

But there's no point. I trudge after them, spinning the useless chain link around my thumb.

I don't have to convince these people.

I just have to get away.

***

An hour later, my eyelids are heavy, and my limbs are sore. We near camp, and the smell of smoke trickles into the air. Tyler points ahead to where the treetops are bathed in a white haze.

My stomach sinks. He's awake. And now we have to explain why we were all up and out of camp at the crack of dawn.

We scrounge up small bundles of wood. My heart is ready to leap from my chest as we enter camp, but only one lone resident sits in the campfire circle.

Sam. He's crouched in the dirt, whittling a branch with his knife.

My gaze shoots from the tents to the trees, then back to the fire. "Where's Mr. Davis?"

"Not awake yet, I guess," says Sam.

Tyler lets his wood drop to the ground, and I shush him.

"Sorry," he mumbles.

"What's going on?" Sam asks. "I thought you were all still sleeping."

"Nothing's going on," Jacey spits too forcefully.

"Just collecting some wood to help you out, buddy." Noah nods to his meager stack and places it near the fire ring.

Sam watches him leerily. "Thanks." He goes back to whittling, pretending like we're not surrounding him. We each add our wood to the pile and plop down around the fire to wait out the morning.

After a minute, Alexandra pulls that scrap of paper hidden in her notebook, squinting at the scribbles again. Beside Jacey, Noah yawns and draws circles in the dirt with a stick.

I scoot closer to Tyler. "Now that the charade is over, you can tell me your true feelings about squirrel mix."

He ignores me, tossing a log onto the fire.

I take a deep breath. "Look, I know you think I'm horrible," I say, my voice low. "And you're right. But I'd do anything to be able to tell Piper how sorry I am. I would own up to the grade scam in a millisecond if it would wake her up. I would take back everything I said to her that day and tell her how amazing she is"—I try to swallow as the words catch in my parched throat—"and how much I love her. How much I want to be a better sister for her." Tears well up in my eyes, one blink away from spilling over.

"Good." He shifts to clear a rock from the dirt beneath him. "If she does wake up, she deserves all of that and more."

Embarrassment smolders in me. I'm an idiot. I can't believe I ever shared two words with that guy. That I drank it all up when he pretended to believe I was nothing more than a distraught sister, while he knew every crooked turn of my soul the entire time.

He's only standing up for Piper. Still, it stings. I believed he wanted to be my friend.

I lean in closer. "You might think you're special because you were friends with Piper, but I'm her sister . I've been in her life since the day she was born."

"They should carve your name on a plaque," Tyler mutters, gaze still locked on the flames.

"I already told you, I made a mistake. I really thought"—I swallow—"you wanted to help me."

"Do you even want help, Savannah?" he snaps, his eyes sparking fiercely as he finally looks at me. "Piper tried to help you, and look where it got you both."

"I'm sorry about everything I did to her. I was upset that she insulted Grant. And that she didn't care about my future." I shake my head. "It doesn't matter. All that matters is finding out who did this to her. Maybe if I can help, she'll—"

"Forgive you?"

My lips press together so tightly they hurt. "You don't think she will. You don't think I even deserve to make it back into her good graces. You think I'm a monster." My voice is raised, and Jacey springs to attention across the fire. I mouth that I'm fine, but I'm not. Because Tyler is right.

"I'm worse than a monster," I admit, dropping my voice. "I don't deserve her forgiveness. But I'm still going to try."

I get up and stride in the direction of my tent. I don't make it far, though, before Tyler brushes past me to block my path.

He sighs, running a hand through his black hair. "That's not what I was thinking." I look up at him. "Well, not in those words." That fire edges back into my limbs. I try to stomp away, but I seem to be fighting through a patch of tall, soundless weeds.

"Not even close to those words," he continues, reaching for the edge of my jacket and tugging lightly. I stop, my eyes fixed on the weeds. "I was going to say that I see you, Savannah Sullivan." He dips his head forward, in front of mine, fingers resting lightly on my arm. My sneaker pushes aside the tall grass in lazy circles as our eyes meet. "The real you. I think you're better than all of this. And I hope Piper wakes up so you two can have another chance."

My fist curls, sending a jolt of pain through my injured finger. "You're so full of crap. Even your name is fake."

He gives a curt head shake. "I meant every word." His voice is steady, and I can't read that glint in his brown eyes. That glint is kindness and cruelty. Love and hate. It's everything and nothing, and I can't look at it for another second.

I try to respond, choking instead as the tears I've been holding back finally wet my cheeks. This is what I deserve for sending Piper back to the school that day, straight into the arms of danger. I sniffle and wipe my eyes with the back of my hand.

Tyler reaches out, his fingertips grazing my still-damp cheeks, but something moves in my peripheral vision. Grant ducks out of his tent, kneeling to tie his boots. I back up, throwing one quick glance at Tyler before leaving him standing alone in the weeds.

Running a hand through his hair, Grant stretches, then catches my eye. "Hey. You're up." His eyes narrow in concern as he shuffles over. "Are you okay?"

"Just couldn't sleep. I'm anxious to visit Piper in the hospital."

Grant's head draws back. "Really?" He glances in the direction of Mr. Davis's tent. "Maybe you and I can get an early start back. Mr. Davis might let us if we go together."

I smile weakly. "That would be great."

His lips touch my hair. "When he wakes up, I'll ask him."

He heads back to his tent for his thermos, and I move to the now-abandoned fire. I squat down to warm my hands, this morning's events tumbling through my brain. Events that Grant knows nothing about. Should I head down the mountain with him? He'd be a comfort at the police station. But then I'd have to confess the real reason I came up here to begin with. I'd have to convince him that his beloved coach can't be trusted.

Zip. "Hey, guys," Mr. Davis's sleepy voice says behind me, turning every inch of my body to stone. "Can't believe you're all up before me."

"Well, the early bird catches the worm, Mr. Davis," says Noah. A horsey, clunky laugh follows.

"Does that mean you caught something, Mr. Crawford?"

"Uh, no. I left my bow and arrows back home, sir." Dark circles rim Noah's eyes, reminding me how tired I am. Jacey yawns, causing me to yawn.

Off to one side of the camp, the bright green tent begins to rustle. The door unzips, and Abby pokes her head out, rubbing her eyes and rolling her neck sleepily. She pulls a beanie over her tousled hair and meanders over to the fire.

Mr. Davis starts assembling his Jetboil, and Grant tosses me a reassuring smile before joining him. Smoke burns my throat and distorts the scene as I watch them, my hands fidgeting in my lap.

A minute later, Grant returns, frowning. "He says we can't split up the group. I would've thought he'd be more understanding."

"When are we heading back down?"

He shrugs. "He wants us to enjoy the morning up here in the fresh air."

Great. I take a breath, but my senses no longer register pine or smoke or the vast glory of the mountains.

The only thing I sense right now is my purpose. And that's to get down this mountain, with or without the buddy system.