Chapter 6

Before school, I find Coach Lennon in her office and ask for the key to the equipment locker. "I want to get an early start on ordering uniforms," I explain. "I'll grab an old one just to make sure I get the colors right."

Coach rolls her eyes. "You should stop worrying about what we're going to wear and pray our team is good enough to win some games." The subtext is clear: unlike the boys' team, we haven't had a miraculous turnaround. We're going to have to work extra hard this year.

I smile, used to her snippy remarks. When she's not yelling at me to stop messing with my hair during a game, she's mocking me for wearing lipstick to practice. But you get to brush all that off when you're the best player on the team. You also get pretty much everything you ask for, which is why she hands over the key before waving me away.

I shut the door to the equipment locker behind me, using my phone's light to guide me. I grab one of our old uniforms from the team bag and toss it beside the door so I don't forget about my excuse. It's difficult in the dark, but I locate the bins with all the Survival Club gear.

I dig through the bin full of backpacks, removing the ones on top, trying to find the one from yesterday. I spot a pop of red and reach for it, my heart soaring. But the tag on the pack says SAM.

There are only three packs left at the bottom of the bin, none of them red.

Holding in a scream, I return everything to the bin and shove it back into place. I stand and examine the rest of the room, shining my phone's light in a slow circle. Piper's pack must've gotten misplaced. I scan the shelves up high and then scrounge through the athletics teams' bins.

The pack isn't here. Which means I have nothing.

I slam my palm into the aluminum wall, biting back a thousand curses. Whoever wrote that threat must've seen me reading it during the meeting. And now this person has covered their tracks.

I sling the stupid uniform over my shoulder and lock up. But my thoughts go to yesterday, when Mr. Davis was yammering and I was looking through Piper's pack.

Someone was watching me: Alex. Now I just need to prove she's hiding information about Piper's fall.

***

The bell has already rung by the time I stash the useless uniforms in my car. I rush back to the main hall and find Alexandra at her locker, talking to this other sophomore girl whose name might be Deb or Diana. I think of her as Country Club because she wears tennis skirts and looks like the kind of person who'd spend summer days lounging at the club pool while Daddy golfs.

I wander closer, leaning against the lockers beside them, pretending to scroll through my phone. I listen in, hoping Country Club will provide me with the smoking gun by calling Alexandra "Alex." Instead, the two simply swap out their books and chatter inanely.

Time for a new plan. I pull out my phone, where I've stored Alex's number, and dial it.

I stop breathing when the call goes through. I wait for Alexandra's phone to ring from inside her backpack or her locker.

But the seconds go by, and the only sound is the slamming of lockers and the two girls' giggling.

Okay, fine. Her phone didn't ring. That doesn't mean she's not Alex. A "good girl" like Alexandra would probably keep her phone on silent during school hours, as per Grayling High's policy. Or she could've forgotten it today.

Then again, I may have this completely wrong.

I head to Spanish. When I reach the door, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I freeze, and Se?ora Pérez tosses a vicious look at me through the doorway.

I back up, mouthing an apology to Se?ora Pérez. My throat closes up as I read the words on the screen.

Don't call this number again

I drop my books in the middle of the hall and race back to the lockers, my heart pounding as I search for Alexandra.

But the hall is empty. Everyone is tucked away in their classrooms.

And I'm alone.

***

Instead of meeting Grant at his car to get lunch off campus, I'm pacing the hall outside the cafeteria.

Alex spoke to Piper the day she fell. Twice. And now she wants to disappear.

I'm not going to let her. Something happened that day. Something this person wants to erase. My bet is still on Alexandra, but I have nothing other than a name and a school club to go on. The cops will need more than that, especially now that Piper's pack with the threat is gone.

"Savannah?"

I look up, irritated someone is interrupting my thoughts. Jessica McKay is standing by a trash can, watching me with concern. She tucks her flat-ironed chestnut hair behind an ear, revealing one of the silver studs I gave her for her last birthday.

"You okay?" She wanders closer, touching my arm delicately. Jessica has been my best friend since second grade, though we haven't spoken much since Piper's accident. Our friendship has always been loud parties, quiet gossip, and stolen sips of whiskey from her parents' cabinet, starting at the tender age of twelve; lately, I haven't exactly been the poster child for fun times.

"Oh, yeah. I was just going to grab something quick because I have a makeup test for chem."

"With Mr. Davis?"

I nod, and Jessica's eyes drift to the cafeteria doors. She makes a face. We haven't eaten in there since sophomore year.

"Well, it's good that you're eating again, at least."

"Yeah." Sorry if I lost my appetite when my sister went into a coma. "I'd better move if I'm going to finish my test." You know, the one that doesn't exist. "Call you later, 'kay?"

She smiles, pity practically dripping from her lips, and I steal through the cafeteria doors.

Inside, the stale scent wrenches me back to a time when life was a little simpler. Sure, I was still the stupid daughter. Sure, I still had failing grades while my younger sister passed me by. But at least she was here, not in some hospital bed.

My eyes comb the tables until I spot Country Club sitting with all her little sophomore friends, Alexandra included.

I take a breath and meander past her table. I have to talk to Alexandra's friends. But if she really is Alex—if she sent that text—I can't let her guess that I'm onto her. She's already getting rid of evidence. I don't want to spook her even more.

I get in line, ignoring the group of freshmen boys ogling me. I glance back at Country Club's table, hoping to catch her on her way out, but she's munching on an apple like we have all the time in the world.

Unwittingly, I growl, and the girl in front of me whips around. Her eyes grow wide with terror. "You can go ahead of me," she says in a squeaky voice.

"Oh, no—I'm not in a hurry. Just broke a nail." I shrug, and the girl smiles in relief.

"I hate that." Her shoulders relax.

My phone dings in my hand, and I jump, still shaky after that text from Alex.

It's Grant. Where R U?

Sorry, doing research. Go w/out me

I tuck my phone away in my pocket. It isn't a lie, exactly. Unfortunately, I can't confide in Grant about Piper anymore; when I told him about Alex on the way to school, he gave me that look again. That same look of pity Jessica gave me a minute ago. Poor Savannah .

It's the look the cops will give me if I go there with nothing but a name and a note telling Piper about a club meeting.

I doubt Grant would approve of me spending time investigating a fall he and everyone else believes was a suicide attempt. Not when I should be focusing on my studies, so we can attend MLU together. I don't want to let him down. He's always been great, but after Piper's accident, he really stepped up. He spent countless hours sitting in the cab of his truck with me, gazing out at Vista Point until the sun was long past down and there was nothing left to see. Some days, I couldn't even speak, but he stayed. Held me. Let me call him in the middle of the night when Mom's crying woke me up. No one else would do that for me. Not Jessica, who hardly speaks to me now, too worried she'll say the wrong thing or that my grief will kill her fun. Certainly not my parents, who barely remember that I'm part of the family. That I'm hurting too.

And if I make it known that I'm searching for the truth about September sixteenth, Grant and everyone else will assume I'm just a grief-stricken sister looking for someone to blame.

Which isn't true.

A sudden burst of panic cracks my thoughts, and I glance back at Alexandra's table. Did I miss Country Club? But she's still working on that apple.

Then it hits me: Alexandra's gone.

I ease out of line, hurrying through the tables and trying not to slip on anyone's spilled lunch. When I get to Country Club's table, the apple core is on her tray. She's checking her makeup with her phone camera, glazing her fingers over her short brown hair. There are still a couple of other girls with her. I slide onto the bench beside her, smiling like I do this all the time.

"Hey, Deb, right?"

Country Club frowns, but then she takes me in as she lowers her phone to her lap. It's like her vision has suddenly cleared, and she straightens up in her seat. Tucks some hair behind her ear. Across the table, the other sophomores stare. "Diana," she corrects, smiling shyly.

Damn it . I knew it was one of the two.

"Right," I say, tapping myself on the forehead like the idiot I am. "I'm Piper Sullivan's sister, Sav—"

"Savannah." She laughs, and the other sophomores join her. "Yeah, we know."

"Right," I repeat. "I was wondering if I could ask you a couple things about my sister." I glance around the table. "In private."

The other two sophomores stiffen. Before I can suggest that Diana and I move into the hall, the others stand. "We were just leaving anyway," one of them says, a girl with a smattering of freckles and long auburn hair.

"Yeah, see you later, Di," the other one says. "We're all praying for Piper," she adds solemnly before shuffling off with her tray.

"Thanks," I mumble, sudden oxygen deprivation clouding my thoughts. Why am I here? Oh, right. I turn to Country Club, trying to find something to compliment her on before we proceed. I learned that from a book, or TV, maybe. People are more willing to do stuff for you after you pay them a compliment.

But it's tough in this case, to be perfectly honest. Finally, I settle on, "That's a really great cardigan." It's not. The green is all wrong for Country Club's complexion. But her whole face lights up, and I know it's a lie for the greater good. "Where'd you get it?"

She touches the cashmere, her fingers dropping to a little pearl button. "It was a gift from Daddy."

I do my best to hold in my laughter. I should be a freaking detective. "Well, your father has excellent taste." I grin, giving it a good pause. "So, you and Piper are friends, right?"

Instantly, her smile falters. She fidgets. I've caught her off guard, which means she isn't friends with my sister. "Oh, well, we were friendly. Everyone loves Piper. She's just so nice. And wow , is she smart."

"She certainly is," I say, because no one has ever rubbed that in my face before. "I'm just trying to find someone who was close to her. It's about this special ceremony I'm planning."

"Well, Jacey Pritchard and Noah—"

"I've already filled them in on the details," I say, hoping I don't sound as annoyed as I feel. "I'm just looking for a couple more contributors. People who are really close to Piper."

"I'm only a sophomore. You might want to talk to more juniors."

"So, not Alexandra Martinez, then?"

Country Club's brow furrows.

"I remember Piper talking about someone named Alex a month or so back. I just assumed it was Alexandra, since they were in journalism and Survival Club together. She does go by Alex sometimes, doesn't she?" I'm going out on a limb with this one.

"Well, yeah, to her friends. But I wouldn't consider Piper and Alex friends, really. I mean, especially not after what happened earlier this year."

All the heat rushes from my body as ice water trickles in. "What happened earlier this year?"