Page 71 of People Like Us

“You don’t know it was Shannon.”

“I know.”

“And if somebody got hurt out there, the search party will find them.” At the mention of the search party, dread settled low and heavy in my stomach.

“Andy texted me earlier,” I said quietly. “Pastor Spires already organized one for after school.”

Emily went still. Something unreadable crossed her face then. Fast enough I almost missed it. She released my arms slowly and leaned back against the bookshelf, chewing lightly at the inside of her cheek while she thought.

Finally she nodded once. “Okay.” The way she said it made my stomach tighten further. “I’ll take care of it,” she said as if the problem had already been solved.

I frowned immediately. “Take care of what?”

Emily shook her head. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Em.”

“I’m serious.” Her voice sharpened slightly now. “Don’t talk to anybody else about this.” Fear crept colder through me then.

“Why?”

“Because if Shannon’s off somewhere smoking weed with his weird little friends and you start telling people you cracked somebody in the woods with a rock, this town is going to decide you murdered him before dinner.”

The awful thing was I could picture that perfectly. Woodland loved only two things more than Jesus: gossip and punishment.

Emily glanced toward the front desk where the librarian sat stamping return dates onto books. Rain ticked softly against the high windows overhead. Then she looked back at me. “Make sure Andy keeps his mouth shut too.”

I frowned. “I didn’t tell him I thought it could’ve been Shannon.”

“Good.” Her jaw tightened slightly. “Keep it that way.” Something about the tension in her shoulders made unease creep slowly up my spine. “And don’t tell Andy you told me,” she added quickly.

“Why not?”

Emily looked away for a second, eyes drifting toward the storm-dark windows. For a moment she looked older than eighteen. Tired in some deep unreachable way. Then she met my eyes again. “Just trust me.” she repeated.

The words settled heavy inside my chest because I did trust her. More than anybody, I realized. Maybe more than I should have.

I nodded slowly. “Okay.”

Emily’s shoulders loosened just slightly in relief.

Neither of us spoke for a moment. The library hummed quietly around us while rain tapped harder against the windows, soft and steady as fingers drumming against a coffin lid.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” I spoke the words quickly, afraid that if I didn’t say them then, I might never.

Emily smirked faintly then, though it looked fragile around the edges.

“Lose your mind, probably.” she said it more like a fact, than a light hearted dig. She didn’t say anything else before she left me standing in that aisle of aging books.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

By the time fourth period let out, the rain had thinned into a damp mist that clung to the air instead of falling from it. The parking lot shimmered darkly beneath the gray sky, puddles trembling under the slow crawl of tires as students flooded outside in clusters. Wet leaves stuck to the cracked pavement.

I tugged my cardigan tighter around myself as I crossed the lot toward Andy’s truck, my stockings soaking through from the shallow puddles I kept stepping into without looking.

Andy stood next to the driver-side door with Jack, Lindsey, and Morgan gathered around him in a loose circle. Jack leaned against the side of his truck with a joint tucked behind his ear, his hoodie damp around the shoulders from the rain. Lindsey sat perched on the tailgate, absentmindedly kicking one leg while she adjusted the stack of gold bracelets on her wrist. Morgan stood closest to Andy, arms folded tightly over her chest, her blonde curls frizzing bigger in the humidity.

Something about the expression on her face made my stomach tighten immediately. She looked like she was trying very hard not to cry.