I didn’t miss a stride. When we got to the top, they stoppedbefore the cliff’s edge to chat with the guys who’d beaten us there. But I kept going.
“Out of my way,” I said to the guys. I strode to the cliff edge and looked down. Two guys were in the water already, seniors. “Watch out!” I yelled down to them, and then I walked backward a few steps, paused for a split second, and charged for the cliff’s edge.
I didn’t even take off my running shoes.
When I surfaced, I looked up. People above were cheering for me. I couldn’t tell which one was Alex, exactly, but I knew he was there.
72.
now
And then I see it. The next clue. Like a flag, fluttering ever so slightly in the early morning breeze, catching the light with a white flash.
A Verity napkin, speared on one of the spiky tops of a raspberry bush.
“Verity.” I say the word out loud. It means truth.
73.
once
“Hi, Mrs. Harper,” Syd said brightly. “Is Morgan here?”
“I’m sorry,” Morgan’s mom said. “She’s not. But she’ll be back at—”
“That’s actually perfect.” Syd interrupted her so smoothly that it didn’t even seem like an interruption. She smiled and held out her hand. “I’m Sydney Thompson, and this is July Fielding. We’re the girls’ cross-country team captains.”
“Of course.” Morgan’s mom beamed, shaking hands with both of us. I’d seen people react like this to Syd before. Her charisma was undeniable.
“We wanted to leave this in her room as a surprise,” Syd said, lifting the rolled-up manifesto she held in her other hand. “Would that be okay?”
Wait. What? I hadn’t known that was part of the plan. I thought we’d give them to their parents, or leave them on the doorstep, if the girls weren’t home. I glanced over at Syd. But Morgan’s mom was opening the door wider, stepping back. “Of course,” she said. “What a nice thing for you girls to do.” She led us to the stairs, which were covered in worn gray carpet. Photos lined the stairway all the way up in mismatched frames. “It’s the first door on your right at the top of the stairs.”
“Thank you.”
“It’s probably a mess in there.”
Syd started up the steps. “I guarantee you it cannot be worse than my room,” she said over her shoulder, and Morgan’s mom laughed.
Morgan’s door was closed. Syd opened it. It was a small room, with a bed, dresser, and closet. No desk or vanity. Contrary to what Morgan’s mom had said, it was fairly tidy. Her bed was made, and no clothes were on the floor or spilling out of the dresser or closet. Her comforter was navy blue, she’d taped photos of different skiers and snowboarders above her desk, and there were a couple of plants on the dresser soaking in the summer light.
“This is, like, the opposite of Ella’s room,” Syd said, looking around.
“When have you been in Ella’s room?” I asked. Being in Morgan’s room felt strangely intimate. We weren’t really in the stage of life anymore when you went into everyone else’s rooms all the time.
“We were hanging out,” Syd said airily. “You’ve been very busy with Sam.”
Morgan had used washi tape to put up pictures on the wall next to her bed. Photos of her with a dog; with an older boy, her brother, who’d been in a lot of the photos lining the stairs. A photo of her kayaking, a few of her rock climbing. One of her flashing a victory sign as she sat on top of a dirt bike in full gear.
“Geez,” Syd said. “No wonder she was the first to jump this year.” She tapped one of the photos of Morgan with her brother.“Remember him? Tony? I think he graduated the year we were sophomores.”
“Yeah.” He’d been nice, if I remembered right. He hadn’t been a runner, so I didn’t know him well.
Syd tucked the rolled-up manifesto under Morgan’s pillow. “There.” She stepped back. Then she shook her head. “No. I don’t want her to squash it.” She pulled the manifesto back out and placed it carefully on top of the pillow.
“So, which freshman should we deliver to next?” I asked when we were back in the car. “And when?”
“I don’t know,” Syd said. “It’s really up to them.”
