“I was hoping theysawwho broke in.”
“But wouldn’t they tell the Beaumonts if they saw someone shady around? And how do you ask without looking suspicious?” I can tell he’s just speaking aloud to work through his thoughts, so I don’t answer. Then he snaps his fingers. “They didn’t come to the house after.”
“No.”
“So whoever it was didn’t look suspicious to them.” He widens his eyes at me. “Like someone wholivesin the house?”
“Or a neighbor who knew the cop was there and when the coast would be clear.” Cops have to pee or get lunch at some point, right? I don’t know why I’m giving the Beaumonts the benefit of the doubt—I think I just don’t want it to be true. “But if someone was going to break in, why not kill me?”
Again Miles thinks it over. “Maybe they know they can’t yet. Cops outside, family on high alert. So they’re toying with you. Whoever itis knows you’re not Nate because they killed him. And they want you to know they’re watching.”
My mouth goes dry because, yes, that’s what I was afraid of.
My phone alarm goes off, making me jump. Miles lets out a startled cry, then laughs. It’s almost ten.
“I should get back home. Valencia is still anxious about me being away from the house.” Another reason I don’t think she could be responsible for Nate’s disappearance. Miles nods and walks me out.
He follows me into the yard, past the viewing area of his own doorbell camera. I look over his shoulder to see the car is still there. The person inside still sitting in the driver’s seat.
“Oh.” Miles’s eyes light up. “If you decide to help me out, I can help you get away.”
My eyes drift over his shoulder to the cop car again. “How?”
“I have my driver’s license. I’ll borrow my mom’s car—if you’re ducked down in the back seat I can sneak you right by them.”
“Wouldn’t you get in trouble for helping me evade the police?”
He shrugs. “Not if you don’t rat me out.”
It would be the easiest way, sneaking out right under their noses. But Miles will only do it if I help him get information for his podcast. And I don’t want my escape to be dependent on him deciding what I give him is good enough.
“Okay,” I say. “I’ll think about it.”
“Listen. A tip while you’re thinking it all over. Don’t let them take your picture.”
“Why?”
“Because right now all they have is that age-progressed pictureof Nate they made with a computer. When you need to run again, they’re going to go looking for you. And if the Beaumonts have a 4K picture of your smiling face, that’s what they’re going to put on the new posters. You won’t be able to hide.”
My stomach drops as I look back toward the house. “I’m already on their doorbell camera.”
Miles shrugs. “Those things are shit usually. It only stores a few days of footage in the cloud. And the videos get compressed and they lower the bit rate to— Oh my God I sound like a complete lunatic nerd. Sorry. Point is, you’ll be grainy, but you won’t be exposed if they use that footage. Be careful of still photos.”
I nod. “Thank you.” I want to ask why he’s helping me, but maybe he really does feel bad for me.
Miles looks uncomfortable for a second as he squeezes his eyes shut. “Don’t make it weird, but... do you want a hug?”
I don’t know how to answer that without making it weird, because I kind of think it already is. “How do I not make this weird?”
He sighs and shakes his hands in front of him like they’re dirty. “Calling attention to the weirdness makes it weird, man!”
“You’re asking if I want a hug with no context!”
Miles gestures to the space between us like itisthe context. Then he lowers his voice as his eyes flit nervously around to make sure no one is nearby.
“Your parents tried to send you to conversion therapy, you’ve been homeless for eight months, and now you’re trapped in a house with potential killers. I thought you might need a hug. I knowIwould need a hug. But getting one from said potential killers may not provide theemotional support a hug is supposed to, so...” He opens his arms wide. “You want it or not?”
I do. Butaskinglike that definitely made it weird. Still, I remember the way Valencia’s hug made me feel in the hospital—and consider how one from her in the future may not feel the same. So I step forward and let Miles wrap his arms around me and squeeze gently.
