Don’t run.Walk. One foot in front of the other.She cleared the main entrance but had to grab on to the railing as she descended the steps. Every fiber of her being was required to fight back the smothering panic.
“Emily!”
Her hand on her SUV door, she almost got in without acknowledging the person who’d called out to her. She recognized the voice ... didn’t want to do this.
“I thought that was you.” The voice was closer now, practically right next to her.
She couldn’t pretend not to hear.
Emily forced her lips back into a smile and turned to greet the woman who had been one of her teachers as well as her cheerleading coach. “Ms. Mallory, how are you?”
Justine Mallory rolled her eyes as she propped against Emily’s SUV, delaying her escape. “Please, you’re not a student anymore; call me Justine.”
“Justine,” Emily amended, keeping her lips bent in what had to be a sorry excuse for a smile.
Pay attention. Compliment her.Ten years and she was still as stunning, if not more so, as she had been when Emily was in high school. Blond hair, deep blue eyes. Makeup always perfect. Long, toned legs leading up to a body to die for. Justine had to be on top of forty and still she looked amazing. The tan, the shorts, the Pine Bluff High T-shirt, all of it made her look like one of the students rather than a tenured teacher of higher math.
“You look great.” The words came out a little stilted.
“So do you,” Justine said, giving Emily a thorough once-over. “Where have you been keeping yourself? I’ve asked your parents about you from time to time. Megan, Cathy, Violet, and I were talking about you at the salon just the other day.”
“I’ve been really busy,” Emily lied. She cleared her throat in an effort to force it open as she tried to think of something else to say. She should ask how the others were doing. She had cheered all through high school with those girls ... until Heather’s murder.
“So, you finally decided to take a vacation and leave the big city?”
Emily nodded. More lies. She needed a swift subject change. “How’s your squad this year?”
Justine glanced toward the girls performing on the field. “They’re not as good as you guys were. But they’ll do.” She studied Emily a moment with a critical eye. “In case I never told you, we missed you that last year.”
Emily couldn’t respond to that. She couldn’t possibly have cheered her senior year without Heather.
Justine reached out, took hold of Emily’s arm, and squeezed. “I can’t imagine how hard this must be for you.” She shook her head. “What happened with that appeal was a travesty.”
The punch of emotions held Emily mute for several more seconds ... long enough for Justine to keep going with things that Emily didn’t want to hear.
“I shouldn’t have allowed hazing week.” Justine looked away a moment. “We haven’t done it since that summer.”
Emily braced one hand against her SUV in an effort to remain steady and vertical. If she’d stayed home that night ... if Heather hadn’t been in her bed. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“You wouldn’t have sneaked out of your room and left the window unlocked. God.” Justine hugged her arms around herself. “I should’ve put a stop to that tradition before someone got hurt.”
It had been Emily’s turn. The rising seniors were supposed to head up hazing week. It was tradition, like Justine said. The upcoming freshmen expected it. No one ever got hurt. Just silly pranks like rolling the assistant principal’s yard and decorating Mr. Call’s with silly Christmas decor. Until that night anyway. But then Megan had backed into his mailbox in her haste to get away and Mr. Call had seen them. Then she’d driven away like a bat out of hell.
Still, no real harm done. Except ... Heather.
Emily’s parents had ordered her to stay home with her brother. It was their anniversary; they had plans. They would be home by midnight, but that would have been too late. Midnight was JustineMallory’s strictly imposed curfew. Heather had volunteered to stay at Emily’s house just in case her brother woke up and needed something or her parents returned early. If they peeked in Emily’s room they would see someone sleeping in her bed. All bases had been covered.
Except it hadn’t been enough. Emily hadn’t seen disaster coming. There hadn’t been any signs ... other than that one ugly episode with Austin at the bowling alley. But that had been a whole week before. Clint Austin had waited for her outside the bowling alley. He’d teased and flirted the way he’d always done, but that time had been different.
She’d still been stinging from the way he’d kissed her a few days before and then just walked away. She’d let him have it. Called him a thug and a few other choice words. He’d lashed out at her, and everyone in the parking lot had witnessed the scene.
She shouldn’t have antagonized him.
She shouldn’t have left her bedroom window unlocked.
She shouldn’t have let Heather stay in her place.
She should have been the one to die.
