Sloth

Deep breaths, she told herself, trying to stop shaking.

It was only a dream.

Except it wasn’t a dream and she couldn’t breathe. She felt like someone had shoved a gasoline-soaked rag into her mouth and she was choking on rough cotton and toxic fumes.

If it was true, she thought, Yd light the match.

She’d waited so long to remember, but now she fought against it; maybe she could hide in the dark, she told herself, slip back into sleep, and wake up the next morning, everything safely forgotten.

But she stood up and fumbled her way toward the desk, refusing to turn on a light-that would make it too real. Blinking back tears, she found the business card and brought it back to her bed, reading the numbers by the dim light of her clock radio. Her fingers hesitated over the buttons on her cell. She had to do it now, she told herself; in the morning, in the light, she’d be too afraid.

The phone rang and rang, and then, just before she was about to hang up, the voice mail kicked in.

”This is Detective Sharon Wells. Leave your name and phone number after the beep. If this is an emergency, please call 911.”

“This is Harper Grace,” she said quickly, thinking, This is an emergency. She tried not to let her voice shake. “You told me to call you if I remembered anything. About, you know, the accident. And. I did.”

Harper snapped the phone shut and dove back into bed, burrowing under the covers. She squeezed her eyes closed but couldn’t force the images out of her brain.

Kaia laughing.

The truck barreling toward them.

Music pumping.

Breaks squealing.

And Harper’s hands wrapped around the wheel.

Chapter 5

“I need to talk to you. Now.” Harper hissed.

Pretending not to notice the urgency in her voice, Kane tossed some books into his locker and eased the door shut. “At your service,” he told her, leaning against the cool metal and waiting for her to unload.

“Not here.” She looked up and down the hallway- students were trickling into the classrooms and there wasn’t a teacher in sight. “Come on.”

Not like he had much choice in the matter. She grabbed his sleeve and dragged him down the hall, slipping through a side door and depositing him on a small landing behind the history wing. It was an emergency exit whose alarm had been conveniently disabled, and since the stairwell down led to a narrow plot of cement bordered by a concrete retention wall, it was unlikely they’d be noticed.

“So what’s the emergency?” He perched on the railing and, letting himself tip backward, idly wondered how far he’d be able to lean before gravity pulled him all the way down.

“You want to tell me again what you saw?” Harper asked, pacing back and forth on the narrow landing. Her hair, more unruly than usual, flowed out behind her, and Kane suddenly noticed that she wasn’t wearing any makeup. His grin faded; Harper didn’t go for the natural look. Ever.

“Saw when?” he asked. “You’re going to have to give me a little more to go on here.”

“The accident.” She spit out. “In the parking lot, the day-you know when. What you told the cops. Tell me.”

Kane stretched his mouth wide open, cracking his jaw, then sighed. “I saw Kaia drive up to the school,” he began in a mechanical voice. The recitation of events had by now become so familiar, he’d memorized the spiel. “I saw you run out of the school. You talked for a while. Then you got into the car and Kaia drove away.”

“Bullshit!” Harper snapped. “Want to try again?”

“That’s the only story I’ve got,” Kane protested. “So unless you want me to make something up…”

“You? Lie?” She made a noise that could have been a laugh. “Wouldn’t want to make you do that.”

She stopped pacing suddenly, and slumped against the brick wall of the school, facing Kane. Her chest shuddered as she gasped for air; how fast did you have to be breathing, Kane wondered, before you were officially hyperventilating?

“Chill out, Grace. What’s with you?”

“What did you see, Kane? Not what you told the police. What happened?.”

She knew something, he could hear it in her tone. Kane swung off the railing and approached her. “What. Are. You. Talking. About,” he said, slowly and clearly, overenunciating, hoping that if he couldn’t tease away her mood, he could piss her off enough that she’d snap out of it.

“When I woke up in the hospital, I didn’t remember anything that happened,” Harper said.

“I know.” He said it casually, as if it were no big deal that she was talking about this, despite the fact that until now, it had been clearly marked as off-limits, surrounded by conversational barbed wire.

“They just told me what-” She closed her eyes for a moment and, drawing in a deep breath, set her mouth in a firm line as if readying herself for a blow. “They told me she died. She was driving, there was some other car, there was a crash, and she… died.”

“It sucks.” Kane shifted his weight back and forth, waiting for the point.

“Why’d you do it?” she asked softly.

”What?”

“That’s what I don’t get. What’s in it for you?”

“What the hell are you talking about, Harper?”

“I remembered.”

Now Kane closed his eyes, then opened them again, searching her face for… uncertainty? Vulnerability? Gratitude? He didn’t know, and whatever he was looking for, it wasn’t there. Her face was angry, and that was it.

“Last night,” she said, “I had a nightmare, and then when I woke up-”

He relaxed. “Just a dream, then.” Kane forced a laugh. “Grace, I know it’s tough not to know what happened, but just because you have a nightmare doesn’t mean-”

“I know what happened. It was my fault. It was me.”

He put his hands on her shoulders and gave her a soft shake. “Nothing was your fault, Grace. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I know exactly what I’m saying!” she cried, pushing him away. “I was driving!”

“Shut up!” he hissed, glancing around to make sure no one had heard. “You can’t go around saying things like that,” he told her softly, urgently. “You know they found drugs in your system. If people thought…” Did she not get how dangerous this was? Did she not understand what she was playing around with?

She rolled her eyes. “What’s the difference? Everyone’s going to know soon enough. The cops will make sure of that.”

“The cops?” He grabbed her again, and this time, when she tried to push him away, he gripped tighter, pushing her up against the wall. “What did you do?”

“Nothing,” she admitted. “Yet. But I have to tell them.”

“Are you fucking insane?” He rubbed his fingers against the bridge of his nose, searching for a way to make her understand. “Whatever you think you remember, Grace, you’ve got to just forget about it. This isn’t something to screw around with.”

“I don’t think I remember, Kane. I know what happened. And I know what you saw. I just don’t know why you lied about it.”

Join the club, Kane thought bitterly. It was his general policy not to get involved, and yet he’d opened his big mouth, spit out a single lie, and now it was too late. He was involved.