“Adam? Why him? What evidence do they have?”
“I’m not really sure. Now that the police are involved again, they’re trying to find the person responsible. Everyone seems to think he hurt me.” She starts crying. “I really didn’t think it was him.”
“Darcy, if they’re questioning him that means they’re trying to get more information. It doesn’t mean he’s the one who hurt you.”
They’re making assumptions based on rumors and Zoey hacking into Adam’s phone. They don’t have real proof yet. Not like what I might be able to provide.
Darcy clears her throat. “I’m actually happy you’re here. I wanted to thank you again for speaking with me. You were the first person I was able to confide in.” She smiles softly. “Ever since I told you, I’ve felt the hugest weight lifted. Like I really can get through this.”
“I’m proud of you, Darcy. It takes guts to do what you did,” I say. “I hope Pam is helping you find the proper resources.”
“She is. I think even my parents are getting on board. I thought they’d blame me, but they’ve been more supportive than I would have thought.”
“I’m happy to hear that.” I’m torn, because while I’m proud of the young woman sitting in front of me, I’m still mourning the girl a state away who never received the chance to get better. And I’m worried Adam will be blamed for something he didn’t do. “I need to ask you for a favor now. It might seem odd.”
“Just tell me what you need, Mrs. Mayfair,” Darcy says, uncrossing her legs.
“I’m wondering if I can see your keys.”
“My keys?”
“Yes. I know it sounds strange.”
She walks out of the room and returns carrying her purse. She digs into the bottom of her bag and pulls out her keys. She hands them to me.
As I noticed last week, there’s at least two charms for every key on the ring. And one is a diamond and emerald encrusted cross. The same cross I saw around Abigail Morrison’s neck in at least a dozen photos. I rub my thumb across the jewels.
“Darcy, where did you get this?”
She tilts her head. “Zoey gave it to me.”
I sigh and my eyes fill with tears. Darcy notices, and she seems uncomfortable at my sudden display of emotion.
“I know it sounds odd, but I need to take it,” I say to her.
“What do you want with my cross?”
“I can’t say right now. But I need to give this to someone. It’s very important. I’ll explain more when I can.”
She looks down and fidgets. “It has a lot of sentimental value. Zoey gave it to me after my attack, right around the time we became friends. You know, I was real nasty to her when she first got here. Since then, she’s been one of the most supportive people. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”
“Are you talking about me in there?” asks a voice from behind. I turn in horror to see Zoey walking into the living room. My heart pounds as she moves closer, looking at me with a terrifying blank stare.
I cling tighter to the keys and look at Darcy. “What’s she doing here?”
“She’s living with us for the next few weeks,” Darcy says.
“I didn’t have anywhere else to go,” Zoey says, sitting on the armrest of Darcy’s chair. “First there was the incident with my mother. Then Ms. Helton. I thought I was going back into the system until Darcy’s folks offered to take me in.”
“Obviously we have plenty of space,” Darcy says, twirling her finger. “She’s staying in my brother’s room.”
“Are your parents here, Darcy?” I ask, trying to hide the fear in my voice.
“No, they’re working,” she says.
“Looks like it’s just us,” Zoey says. She knows I’m not asking to be polite. She senses my anxiety. “Say, why are you here Mrs. Mayfair?”
Before I can answer, Darcy speaks. “She wants my keys for some reason.”
“Keys?” Zoey looks at me.
“She seems to like the cross you gave me,” she says.
“The cross?” she asks, looking in my direction, staring at my hands. Her wide eyes offer the first sign of real emotion I’ve ever seen on her face. Worry.
“Darcy,” I say slowly. “We need to leave. Now.”
But she doesn’t move. She sits there, her knee against Zoey’s body. “Leave?” she repeats.
“Come over here to me,” I tell her.
Darcy looks at me, then Zoey. “What’s so special about the cross?”
“Yes, Mrs. Mayfair,” Zoey says. She stands and takes a step closer. “What’s so special about the cross?”
“I think you know,” I say, staring at her.
Darcy stands, looking back and forth between us. “Will someone tell me what is going on?”
I look at Zoey, whose eyes almost appear black. Her fists are clenched as she breathes steadily. Darcy seems scared, but she’s not sure which one of us is the threat.
“You stupid bitch,” Zoey says, walking toward me.
“Zoey,” Darcy yelps, mortified Zoey would dare speak to a teacher that way.
“Darcy, run,” I yell, moving so that the sofa separates me from Zoey. She comes closer, although she’s not yet chasing me down. She doesn’t have to. She knows she has the advantage.
“What is wrong with you two?” Darcy shouts, walking backward toward the patio door.
“Darcy, this pendant is from a necklace belonging to a girl named Abigail Morrison—” I start.
“Shut up,” Zoey says, hate spewing.
“This girl went to Zoey’s old high school. Her body was found two weeks ago,” I say.
“Shut up,” Zoey shouts.
“What is she talking about?” Darcy cries.
“Both of you. Shut the hell up!” Zoey screams.
“Abigail was murdered,” I tell Darcy, hoping she’ll listen and put the pieces together. Hoping she won’t think I’m paranoid and delusional like everyone else. The entire time I speak to her, I never take my eyes off Zoey. “This cross belonged to her, and now Zoey has given it to you.”
“Shut the hell up,”
