Exiting out of the email, I called my mom even though I knew she was still at work. I wanted to call Jay, but the week had been hard on both of us. I didn’t want to tell him about the email while he was driving. I stared at my phone and the very few numbers in it. My chin quivered and I let out a rough breath.
I don’t know anyone else’s number by heart.
Carter’s clutch, with my phone inside, hadn’t been recovered. It was presumed to be at the bottom of the lake. Since I had to get a new phone, I got a new number too. I didn’t want anyone connected to that night—namely the cheerleading squad—to have a way to contact me. I had the lost phone remotely wiped clean so none of my personal information was left on the device.
When my phone rang, I was overcome with sadness when I saw who it was. Even though I’d left her a message half an hour ago giving her my new number, I didn’t expect her to call.
“Hello?”
“Oh Brooklyn,” Mrs. Yates cried causing tears to sting my eyes. “Thank you for your sweet message.”
“How are you?” I asked her.
“I’m having a hard time. I just can’t believe she’s gone.”
“Me either.”
“It doesn’t make sense.”
“It doesn’t.”
“Have any of the cheerleaders said anything at all?”
“No, they don’t talk to me. They’ve never really talked to me,” I replied, taking a seat at the desk.
“We just need answers,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “It’s been four days and the detectives won’t tell us anything. Nothing makes any sense. What’s the point of being friends with the Chief of Police if you can’t get answers when you need them?!”
Her voice pierced my eardrum and heightened my anxiety. “I know,” I murmured, swiping at the tears that formed in the corners of my eyes. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“She’s been swimming since she was five years old. She was a lifeguard, for God’s sake! She wouldn’t have drowned in a lake!”
“I know.”
“We just need answers,” Mrs. Yates murmured weepily. “It doesn’t add up. What they are saying doesn’t make any sense and I know someone knows something. This doesn’t just happen without anyone knowing anything. The cheerleaders, the fraternity boys, a neighbor…someone knows something about my daughter. They have to! They’re just not saying anything. But someone knows something.”
I didn’t respond, but as I wiped the tears from my cheeks, I silently agreed. It didn’t make any sense. Someone knew more than they were letting on.
“Tom just got home, but when you see the other cheerleaders, please ask them. And if you see the boys in the fraternity, maybe one of them will tell a pretty girl like you something they didn’t tell the police.” She paused, sniffling. “It just doesn’t add up. She wouldn’t have been out there swimming by herself in the middle of the night. Especially in that dress. It cost a fortune and she loved it. It’s difficult to clean white tulle and she wouldn’t have jumped in a dirty lake! I know they know something! Tom and I can pressure Chief Vick on our end. But…but please see what you can find out on your end.”
“I will,” I whispered.
“Thank you, Brooklyn.” Mrs. Yates took a deep breath before continuing, “I know you two went your separate ways when she got heavily involved with the cheerleading squad, but she loved you. When you moved in the house with her, she told me so.”
“I loved her, too.”
She sighed. “If only she would’ve left with you that night.”
Another wave of sadness hit me.
“Talk to you soon, darling,” she concluded, hanging up before I managed to open my mouth.
My heart was thudding in my chest. I dropped my phone on the desk and I sat back in the chair.
I didn’t tell the police that I’d heard a scream. I didn’t tell anyone—well anyone except Jay. I was contacted by Detective Lynch again and I answered all of her questions. I retold the officers what I knew about the prank, what I knew about the PROs, what I knew about the cheerleaders, why I left the party and when I left the party, but I couldn’t bring myself to bring up the scream. Besides the fact that it didn’t really sound like Carter, the idea that it could’ve been Carter and I ran away killed me.
I was inconsolable on Sunday. On Monday, Jay held me in bed as we wallowed in the depths of sadness. We left the apartment to get my car on the way to the police station on Tuesday. By Wednesday night, I was sullen and angry—angry at Carter, angry at the cheerleading squad, angry at the PROs, angry at that stupid prank, angry at the world, but mostly, angry at myself.
What if I could’ve saved her? What if the scream I heard was actually Carter crying out for help?
Those were the thoughts that hurt most.
For four days, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d heard her die. I couldn’t help but think the last sound Carter made was the catalyst for me to run into the woods. I couldn’t even bring myself to read the details surrounding her death. Each time I tried, I just heard the scream.
I hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in ninety-six hours.
Logging into my laptop, I pulled up the schoolwork I’d been brushing off for the last few days. I hadn’t gone to
