"Pretty girls like you get lost in these woods all the time, Alexa."
On the night of Sebastián's annual Beginning of Summer Bash, amiable and adventurous Melody Tryniski went missing. What might have appeared as a juvenile escapade - a casual incide...
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THE DINER'S PARKING LOT is filled with all types of cars, including a police cruiser. Despite its popularity in Levittown, it has never been so full. That's when I know something's wrong.
I lean against the wall that's between the front door and the display window, practicing the breathing techniques that my father has taught me to control my nerves.
Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out.
My mind is going a mile a minute, while my heart seems to be on overdrive. I can't shake away this feeling of dread that's settling in my stomach, the notion that something bad has already happened and will continue to happen.
Do they know that I've been withholding information that's crucial to the investigation? Do they know about Melody's paintings? Her letters? Do they know that I know who's the killer? Do they know I'm a liar? Will they hold me accountable for Christopher's actions? Will I be considered an accomplice to a murder for not going to the police as soon as I found out?
I curse myself for not going to the police sooner. It's not fair that I didn't even get the chance to confess, but I guess that's life. Whatever's shaking this small town today, be it because of me or someone else, I have to face it. I can't hide and pretend to be any better than Melody's killers.
That's when it strikes me --- killers, as in plural. Who else helped Christopher?
The ting of the diner's bell and the quick whiff of the cold air conditioner on my face make me realize that I'm actually inside. The place is twice as packed from what's portrayed in the parking lot. Everyone grows quiet and looks at me, their eyes following my every movement as if suddenly aware of my existence.
Detectives Ellis and Jones are on the far end of the diner, talking to a crying Mrs. Shaw in low murmurs. Their gazes stop on me for a moment, a flash of sympathy and pity directed towards me, before they continue to talk to Mrs. Shaw. I've never seen her show any kind of emotion. She's just like her son or, rather, he's just like his mother in that sense. They only show emotion when something is seriously wrong.
"Christopher's on his way," Mrs. Shaw mumbles between sobs, her soft voice sounding louder in the silence.
My body paralyzes in the middle of the diner when I hear those words. He's coming over here. He's going to see me and will want to talk to me about last night. I can't bear the thought of seeing him in this new light. I want him to be my Christopher forever, even if it's all a lie. My heart thumps aggressively against my chest, a mixture of the usual excitement his presence brings and the dread of knowing what he's capable of.
I can't do it. I won't do it. As I turn around to leave, there's a sound that was intended to be soft but is loud in the dead silence that surrounds the diner.
