“She’s a teenager,” Carol replied, arms folded. “They’re genetically engineered to hide things.”
I glanced at Deva, who looked thoughtful, and then at the rapidly retreating Zoe.
“I think we should talk to her again,” I said, moving toward the exit. “But gently.”
Beth and Carol exchanged glances, shrugged, and followed. Deva brought up the rear. We spilled out into the tiled lobby, catching a glimpse of Zoe turning the corner and disappearing down the hallway that led to the staff area.
“She’s gonna run,” Beth said. Darn it. She was right.
We took off, sneakers squeaking on the tiles, me and Beth in the lead. Zoe heard us and broke into a sprint, dropping her broom behind her. She tore through the emergency exit and into the alley, the metal door slamming hard enough to echo down thestreet. We pounded after her, lungs burning from the sudden chase.
For a second, I thought we’d lost her, but then I caught the hem of her shirt top vanishing behind a dumpster. She was quick, but Beth was faster, years of single motherhood and caffeine propelling her down the alley like a heat-seeking missile.
Carol, who was not built for speed but never let that stop her, hustled after us with impressive determination. As we rounded the corner, Zoe dashed toward the parking lot at the back of the building. The only thing in her way was a chain-link fence and a parked minivan with its trunk open.
She made it to the fence, hooked her fingers in, and started to climb. Beth yelled, “Don’t!” but Zoe ignored her, scaling the links with desperate energy. Carol muttered something under her breath and pointed at Zoe’s shoes.
Suddenly, Zoe’s upward momentum evaporated. Her hands gripped the fence, but her feet seemed glued to the crossbar. She hung there for a moment, confusion flickering across her face, then tried again and managed only a slow, cartoonish drag upward, like the world had switched to half-speed.
Beth reached her first and put a gentle hand on Zoe’s calf. “We’re not going to hurt you,” she said earnestly.
Zoe twisted to look down, the panic giving way to total bewilderment. “What the—?” Zoe’s face crumpled, all the bravado draining away. “I can’t tell you anything, okay? If I do, I’ll get fired, and I really need this job.”
Deva stepped forward. “We’ll keep it off the record. No need for the movie theater to know, but if Alice is in trouble, we have to know.”
Zoe dropped down from the fence and hugged herself, her knuckles white. “She’s not in trouble. She’s just…” She hesitated, then looked at me. “She’s just different.”
“Different how?” I asked, keeping my tone soft.
“She likes to come in after hours,” Zoe said, glancing over her shoulder as if someone might overhear. “Sometimes she pays me to let her see movies early. Like, the week before they come out. I’m not supposed to do it, but she’s really nice. Not like the creeps that hang around after midnight.”
Beth exchanged a look with Carol. “She pays you?”
“Yeah. Not a lot, but enough to help me out. I’d lose my job if the manager found out.” She wiped her palms on her pants. “Is that all? Are you gonna tell?”
“Not if you help us,” I promised. “Has she ever met anyone here? Like, during those private showings?”
A silence stretched long enough that all three of us did a synchronized sigh.
I shifted closer to her. “Zoe, I’m not here to get you in trouble. I just needed to know if Alice ever meets anyone else here. Just so we have another person to ask questions.”
She looked guilty. “Not during those shows. But sometimes she comes for the midnight marathon. She never buys tickets for those, just sneaks in. And there’s always someone with her, but I haven’t seen who. They wait outside, and then Alice walks in with them. The other person wears a hoodie and, like, hats and stuff. Every time.”
She glanced around, as if the shadowy figure might burst out of the dumpster for an encore right now.
“Could it have been Henry? My brother?”
Zoe shook her head instantly. “No way. He comes with her to regular shows, like, five or six p.m. And he definitely doesn’t dress up. Dude wears button-ups. Sometimes Hawaiian shirts. This person is smaller, maybe? But it's hard to say. They always keep their head down.”
I couldn’t quite process it. Alice was sneaking around, meeting mystery guests at midnight, and nobody thought to mention this until now? What kind of Nancy Drew nonsense had my brother gotten tangled up in?
Beth seemed to be following my logic trail. “So, the times Alice comes in with Henry, she’s not masking her identity. But for midnight movies, the other person is always in disguise?”
Zoe nodded. “It’s kind of creepy, honestly. But Alice doesn’t seem, like, scared or anything. They just sit in the back row and leave together. I never see their faces.”
Carol gave Beth a look, and Beth gave me one right back. We were all thinking the same thing. What were we supposed to do with this information?
“I promise,” I said to her, “we won’t tell a soul. But do you remember if the other person ever spoke? Like, did they sound old or young?”
