“Where’s Adam?” Tyler asked, taking Brooke’s hand.
“He’s here. They questioned him, and while no one told me directly, he’s no longer a suspect. Especially not with Edi missing. Everyone’s looking for her. City police, highway patrol...everyone. Adam’s going out soon to help them. I wanted to call you right away, though. Just in case.”
“In case what?”
“So you’d know. While they don’t know where she is, they found things. Things in her desk. Her locker. Even in her patrol car.”
“Things?” Brooke leaned toward the phone. “Things that suggest she’s guilty?”
“Nobody’s saying that. Not to Steph and me, anyway. But yeah. That’s the impression I’m getting. Really, though. Stay inside. She’s desperate. And desperate people do unpredictable things.”
They talked for a few more minutes, Joe promising to call if he heard anything else. When Brooke hung up, the house felt too quiet.
“It’s almost over,” she said, trying to convince herself as much as Tyler.
“Yeah. Almost.”
Neither of them moved from the couch. The relief Brooke had expected to feel hadn’t come. Instead, there was just tension, a sense of waiting for something else to happen.
Tyler stood suddenly, his head tilted. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
“Outside. I thought I heard—” He moved to the window again, peering through the curtain. “There. Movement. By your SUV.”
Brooke joined him at the window. The early evening light made it hard to see clearly, shadows lengthening across her driveway. Then she saw it too. A figure moved near her vehicle, crouched low.
“Go upstairs,” Tyler said, his voice urgent but controlled. “Lock yourself in your bedroom. Call 9-1-1.”
“Tyler— ”
“Now, Brooke. Please.”
The fear in his voice galvanized her. She grabbed her phone and ran for the stairs.
Brooke reached the bedroom and closed the door, turning the lock. Her hands shook as she dialed.
“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”
“Someone’s breaking into my house. I’m at 412 Elm Street. My boyfriend is downstairs. The intruder...we think it’s—” Her voice caught. “Please hurry.”
The operator’s questions blurred together. A crashing sound came from downstairs. Heavy footsteps shook the floor. Tyler’s voice cut through, above all else.
“Edi. What are you doing here?”
Edi’s voice was too quiet for Brooke to make out the words, but she caught the tone. It was off, almost sing-song.
Brooke opened the bedroom door and crept into the hallway. She leaned against the hallway table and nearly knocked over a lamp, but managed to catch it. She stepped toward the top of the stairs and peered down. The front door hung open at an odd angle.
“You need to leave,” Tyler said. “The sheriff knows. This is over.”
“It’s not over.” Edi’s voice rose, sharp and desperate. “It’s never been over. Not since you came back. Not when you were gone either. It’s always been you.”
“Edi, please. Just leave. We can talk about this at the station.”
“Talk?” Edi let out a harsh laugh. “I’ve been talking to you for months. Years, even. You never heard me. Never saw me. Just like in high school. Just like always.”
“I don’t understand— ”
