Then, I spin around and make a run for it, clutching the gun in one hand and my phone in the other.
“Eva!” Mason shouts, following me as I fly down the stairs.
His footsteps close the distance behind me as I run past the bar. But when he sees I’m headed for the front door, he breaks into a sprint, leaving me no time for shoes or jacket. My bare feet crunch against the gravel, stones like shards of glass, but I don’t let that slow me down as I throw myself into the only car I know has keys in it. As they always are. With one click of a button, I drag the seat forward and turn the engine over. Mason storms out the front door. I floor the accelerator, and the car shoots forward, just in time to miss his hand on the door. He slaps the back of James’s car as I take off into the dirt road, spraying mud on all sides.
Only when I’m a few yards away do I dare to look in the rearview mirror.
I watch him shrink with every second, just like my heart in my ribs. Nothing beats in my chest anymore. Everything worth anything inside me still belongs to him.
And I leave it behind for safekeeping.
Because I still need to find out who killed my parents. The one who sat and planned our demise. Railed us down the road like our lives were meaningless. And then if that wasn’t enough, came back and shot my father, while he held my hand and vowed me to silence.
The burden my mind has been begging to shed all this time.
And all it took was another gunshot to remember the one that broke my mind.
35
EVA
“Evie, stop it.”Gracie pulls me back by the elbow. “Just leave it, okay.”
“No way,” I shout as I struggle out of her hold, marching toward the playground with my hands on my hips, my ballerinas splashing in the rain.
“Aunt Lizzie is going to be mad if we’re late,” she warns.
“She’s a bully, Gracie. She’s always so mean. Because no one stands up to her. I’m not letting her get away with it this time. Here, hold my bag.” I hand her my Catwoman bag, which has a big yellow fluorescent Catwoman face with ‘EVA RYCROFT’ printed in bold letters. Then I stomp to Sarah Johanssen, who is standing by the slides, drinking the pink slushie she poured on Gracie.
I yell at Sarah until she is red in the face, then march back. But Grace is gone. Her bag lies on the ground sideways, and mine is missing. I look around. There is no one here. Where did she go?
“Gracie?” I yell into the wind.
No sign of her. A fluorescent light catches my eye. A shine in the car that’s pulling into the street. Something’s moving in the back, but I can’t see clearly. The windows are too dark. Is that Gracie? Where is she going, and who is that man who is driving? I don’t recognizehim, and we are not allowed near strangers. Aunt Valerie is going to be furious if she finds out.
I run after the black car as it drives away, trying to see through the back window. But I can’t see anything. And the car doesn’t even have any numbers written on the bottom.
“Bean, focus,” Mum is shouting at me now, sniffing through her tears. Aunt Valerie is crying, too. Uncle Jonathan and Dad seem angry. “Tell me what you saw.” Mum shakes my shoulders. “What did that man look like?”
My chest feels full of bees, palms sweaty, as Mum continues to cry, and then my eyes well up, too. Why are they all mad at me? I didn’t do anything.
“Lizzie,” Dad interjects. “Easy.”
“Mum, let her go.” Dan pulls Mum’s hands off me and replaces her on the floor in front of me, while I sit on the couch in our living room, beside a strange lady who is playing sketch. “Bean, you know how you are so good at Guess Who?” Dan asks.
“I always beat you.” I shrug, proudly.
Dan smiles. But he looks sad. Everyone is being weird today. And why is Gracie not back?
“You do. Let’s see if you are good at Show Me Who.”
“How do you play that?”
“I’ll go first.” Dan looks at the woman beside me, and she starts drawing. “I have a mother with bright blue eyes, a heart-shaped face, a small nose…” When he finishes, the woman holds up a sketch. Wow! The face she made looks exactly like Mum’s.
“Now, you try. But you only win if the sketch she draws matches the man you saw in that car. So, tell her everything you can remember, okay?”
“I can do that.” I shrug and begin, “He had dark hair, scary gray eyes, he was taller than Dad….”
