by Lucy Auburn
I blushed, remembering not just what had happened with Naomi but the disastrous encounter just before it, when I left some guy with a bloody lip. “The party was disappointing,” I said defensively. “That’s why we stepped outside for air.”
“I don’t think I really believe you,” he said, leaning back and stapling his fingers on the table in front of him. “From what I heard from other witnesses, you ran out of the kitchen.”
I stared down at my fingers, heart in my throat. “Okay. So—someone came in and chased Talia out into the woods. And I followed. We weren’t getting fresh air, but that’s it.”
“Who chased Talia into the woods?”
I squirmed. “This girl—I don’t really know her. Naomi was her name. She just chased Talia out into the trees, and then we heard the screaming and Todd was dead. Nothing happened.”
“So you didn’t fight with this Naomi person?”
I stared at him, biting my lower lip. “I, uh, no. I wouldn’t say that we fought.”
“I see.” His eyes seemed to penetrate me more thoroughly than any man ever had with any other part of his body. Despite myself, I crossed my legs, a little turned on by how thoroughly he took over the situation—even as I knew it was wrong. “Well, let’s go over what happened again, shall we? Now that I know you weren’t telling the truth about the fresh air, I want to make sure I get the rest of your story straight.”
We went around and around for a while until he seemed to be satisfied. I found out why when I was let out of the interrogation room and saw all the other kids from my school standing around the police station.
They had more than enough witnesses to place Talia at the scene of Todd’s murder with a bloody knife. I knew that—so many people had peered their heads into the kitchen to look and then disappeared. The only person I hadn’t seen give a statement to the police was Naomi, who had vanished the instant the squad cars showed up.
I didn’t even know if she was a student at my school. She was just... there suddenly, with a black knife strapped to her thigh under her dress. And now my best friend was arrested, and who knew what kinds of charges she’d be facing.
Looking around the precinct, I realized that I didn’t have my cell phone—Talia and I didn’t bring things to parties unless they fit in our bras. Grimacing, I caught eyes with the closest officer and asked, “Is there a phone somewhere I can use?”
Raising her brows at me—no doubt surprised at my unexpected millennial lack of a phone—she pointed down the hall. “Pay phone. There are quarters in the solo cup if you need ‘em.”
“Thanks.”
I shoved through the crowd in the hallway, which grew quiet as I passed. My classmates and fellow party-goers were sitting around in a variety of states, at least half of them staring at their phones and no doubt waiting for an Uber to pick them up. They gave me looks that ranged from the curious to the disgusted to the angry; no doubt some of them had seen me vanish into the kitchen shortly before Todd’s death and thought that I was involved. The police had made a big deal about my fingerprints being on the knife. It was only the testimony of my classmates claiming that Talia had stabbed Todd saving me from being arrested—but the officer who questioned me and let me go made it clear I would be seeing him again.
Picking up the phone, I put in the quarters needed to make a call and grimaced as I punched in my foster mother’s number. She picked up on the second ring, asking, “Selena?”
“Yes, it’s me. I left my cell phone in the apartment.”
“Are you okay? I saw on the news that someone from your school was stabbed to death at a party.”
I swallowed; at least this way I wouldn’t have to be the one to tell her. “I’m actually at the police station down on Woodale. They took me in to ask a few questions. I was hoping you could pick me up.”
“Of course. I’ll be there right away. It may take me thirty minutes or so though.”
“That’s fine.”
With a pause, Maggie asked me, “Is everything okay?”
A lump formed in my throat at the sound of her familiar and comforting voice, which had wrapped around me and held me close after my parents died and I needed someone to take care of me. If the story spilled out of me now, tears would spill along with it—and there were people watching intently, not to mention I’d left the whole black eyes, black dagger thing out of my story.
“I’ll tell you all about it later. At dinner, maybe? If we’re still having dinner. Not now.”
“I understand. Hold on until I get there, Silly.”
Silly was her nickname for me—born out of frustration that “Selena” didn’t have an easy diminutive. Hanging up the phone, I took a deep breath and tried to center myself. This couldn’t be the end, after all; there had to be more coming soon. The police would figure out Talia wasn’t the real killer, and one day soon this would be a crazy story we told about the frat party that went wrong. At least I hoped.
While I waited for Maggie to come pick me up, I looked for a place to sit down. The precinct was full of benches, but I didn’t want to sit by my nosy classmates and risk one of them trying to start a conversation with me. I wasn’t in the mood. So I found a place to sit that was further away from them, uncomfortably close to the officers sitting at their desks doing work. There was a barrier between our corral of people—suspects and witnesses alike—and the open office plan where all the officers worked. Still, I could feel them sitting there, no doubt weighing my friend’s life in their hands, all the power on their side to end her freedom forever. The thought didn’t sit well with me.
One officer in particular caught my eye. As he walked out of a door to what was no doubt another interrogation room, Detective Leon Hardwick ran a troubled hand through his thick hair. He motioned to one of the other officers, who leaned in close while Leon murmured in her ear. There was something that was bothering him; I could see it in the tension in his shoulders, the straight line that ran down his back.
I was so wrapped up in staring at him that I almost didn’t notice it when Naomi showed up. She was wearing a new outfit, which surprised me; somehow she got the time to change. Her dark hair was swept up into a thick ponytail that swung down to brush against the back of her neck. Gone was the dramatic eye makeup, leaving mostly just mascara and eyeliner behind, and she wore a casual pair of dark wash jeans with a white T-shirt and a black leather jacket that felt somehow identical to Leon’s despite their very different build.
She caught my eye, but apparently I didn’t catch hers, because as she walked into the precinct it was clear she wasn’t looking for me. When she called out, “Leon! Over here,” it felt almost like I should’ve expected it.
I had no idea what was going on, but it was clear that there was something here. What had Naomi called Talia in the woods? “Demon-possessed,” which made no sense. And she’d kept calling me a “suck” like it made any sort of sense. My fingers itched for a cell phone, desperate to look up that word and figure out what it meant. The next time I went to a party, I was taking a purse with me, damn Talia’s “pack light” rules.
From a distance, I watched as Naomi and Leon gathered in a corner of the precinct and exchanged murmured words and furtive glances. Naomi kept shifting her weight back and forth and frowning; when she looked over at me, I glanced away quickly, a blush heating up my cheeks at her attention.
It was a relief when Maggie rushed through the front doors, her eyes searching for me, her car keys dangling from one hand. I called out to her and she found me swiftly, gathering me in her arms and hugging me tight. As always, her hugs were enough to cure almost everything.
“Are you okay, darling?”
“I’ve been better.” Burying my face in her shoulder, I murmured, “Talia was arrested. They think she stabbed somebody to death. She didn’t, but—it doesn’t look good for her.”
“Oh baby. I’m so sorry.” Holding me close, Maggie pressed her arms to my back and soothed me. “Let’s get you home, okay? We can
talk about it more over dinner tomorrow.”
“I’m not sure I’ll be up for dinner,” I admitted.
Pulling back from the hug, she brushed my hair out of my eyes and scolded me. “Time with familiar faces is just what you need right now. Wallowing will do no good—if Talia is in trouble, we have to come up with a plan. And that’s just what we’ll do. Now, c’mon.” She held up her keys. “Let’s get out of here.”
As we went through the front doors, I glanced over at Leon and Naomi one more time. The detective was looking at me now, a frown crossing his face as Naomi told him something. In front of me, Maggie stopped and followed the direction of my eyes, and I almost swore for a second that recognition crossed her face when she saw Leon and Naomi. But that was impossible; she couldn’t know either one of them.
She drove me home, offering to stay with me for a while, but I just wanted to sleep. After extracting a promise from me to go to dinner, Maggie left me alone with my thoughts for company, and I sank down onto my couch in the living room and tried to figure out what the hell was going on with my life—and what in the world a “suck” could be.
Chapter Four
Life without my best friend didn’t make sense. Our apartment was so strange with just me in it.
Talia’s mom managed to call me and let me know, grimly, that they were drawing up charges and planned to hold her for at least a few days, until they could put her before a judge and set bail.
The news settled in my stomach like a hot ball of lead, and though I tried to study for my upcoming finals and add a few words to the essays I was writing, I just couldn’t concentrate. My head kept spinning around and around, full of questions: had I really seen what I thought last night? What happened after the three of us ran out into the woods? And most importantly of all: who really killed Todd?
But I wasn’t going to get any answers pacing back and forth in the confines of our two bedroom apartment. So that’s how I wound up texting my foster mother to let her know that I was coming over early. I hadn’t thought that I’d be up for our traditional monthly dinner tonight, but now that some time had passed I realized that what I wanted more than anything was some company. And there was nothing quite like the woman who raised me from an angry teen into a college-attending adult to knock some sense into me—yet again.
Maggie’s house was on the other side of Baton Rouge. I took my car and headed over, slinging my book bag into the back seat of my car. Maybe once I was there I would be able to concentrate well enough to study—or maybe that was a pipe dream.
Mind distracted, I went through the motions of driving: idling in traffic, stopping at the red lights, driving around the city’s potholes. I was halfway there, stopped at a light, when it happened.
Something overcame me and took my mind to another place.
It was like a dream, but without closing my eyes. I jolted in shock as I looked around myself; darkness surrounded me. I was in a school at night, careening down empty hallways, feet sliding on slick linoleum. My legs pumped as I ran as fast as I’d ever run in my entire life, lungs drinking in great breaths of air. In my right hand, I grasped a long and dangerous knife. In my left, a charmed compass that told me where it was. The thing I was hunting. And with every passing moment I got closer.
There! Crouched in the shadows was a thing unlike any creature I’d seen in my life. Even my nightmares couldn’t compare to the thick, oozing evil that poured out of it and slicked the floor like oil. It was black, so black that it gathered what little light streamed in through the building’s windows and snuffed it out. With four legs and a curving back, it crouched on the ground like a big cat—but without any grace or majesty. Its feet were like humans hands, but the fingers were bent and splayed out, awkward and creepy.
And its head was a skull with all the skin ripped off, revealing nothing but darkness beneath.
I should’ve run. But this wasn’t my body or my life, I was realizing, and I definitely wasn’t in control. Instead of running I screamed a battle scream so loud it echoed through the hallways and ricocheted back to me like a living thing. As I screamed, I rushed towards the demon, and it pounced on me.
We fought. I slashed its shoulder with the dagger. It threw me onto my back, pain shooting through my head. I yelled and kicked it off, rolling onto my stomach and pushing back up to my feet.
Stalking around me, it hissed, the sound like the croak of a coffin lid creaking open. It was shudder-inducing, but I held in place, crouching near the ground and ready to strike.
Unfurling, the demon stood up on its hind legs, its spine curving with knobby horror as it roared and pulled an arm back to strike me. But I was fast, and brave; I wouldn’t let it take me down. With a speed and strength that was almost inhuman, I surged forward and stabbed it through its chest. It screamed as it crumbled into ashes and flakes all around me, its death coating me in a disgusting amount of slick, oozing demon-stuff.
“I hope this high school has a gym with shower,” I muttered in Naomi’s voice, brushing off my shoulders.
And then I heard the honking behind me. I was still at the stop light, back in my actual body, sitting in front of what was now a green light. Cars were swerving around me as they honked their anger at my obvious stupidity.
Blushing red and confused, I muttered, “Sorry,” to no one who could hear and put my foot on the gas.
It took me a while to go back to feeling normal, my heart pounding in my chest. Last night was one thing; this was something entirely new. I’d never had a dream while I was awake, and nothing I’d ever dreamed in my sleep had been like that. Worried, I wondered if it was some residual effect of the drink Naomi had given to me, combined with the things I’d seen in the woods.
Clearly my mind was playing tricks on me. I didn’t blame it after the night I’d had, but I hoped this was the last time it would happen.
Now that I was aware of my surroundings and headed in the right direction, it didn’t take long to get to Maggie’s house. It was a charming little house, nestled into the suburbs next to other houses and their little yards. It was modest, much less sizable than the house I’d grown up in, but it had been more than enough for the two of us after my parents died.
Grabbing the bottle of red wine I’d picked up the other day at the grocery store, I walked up the steps to the peeling white door and knocked as hard as I could. The doorbell was broken, of course, just like the door was crooked enough on its hinges that it took effort to pull it open. But this place had been safe, and coming back to it was comforting.
There was no answer from inside, so I knocked again, four loud raps that stung my knuckles. “Coming!” I heard Maggie’s voice and saw a figure move inside, a vague form that blocked out the light. “Hold your horses. If you knock a third time I’m not letting you in.”
That was just like her.
Smiling, Maggie threw open the door and gave me a good look. “Did you sleep last night?”
“Barely. But I remembered to bring the wine.” Holding the bottle up, I leaned forward to sniff the aroma of cooking food wafting in the air. “What’s for dinner?”
“Smoked sausage and seafood jambalaya, red beans and rice, smothered green beans, and your favorite banana pudding for dessert.”
My stomach gurgled at the combined smells and imagery I got from the listed menu. “You must have been cooking all day.” She stepped aside and let me in. Placing the red wine bottle on the countertop, I sighed and set my bag down by the door. “I couldn’t sit in that apartment by myself any longer.”
“It’s been a hard day, I gather.” She took me in with her eyes as she stepped over to the kitchen to check the jambalaya. I took a seat at the old dining room table, which was a thick solid wood, and watched her work. “Any news of Talia?”
“Yes. But it’s not good.” Grimacing, I stared down at the whorls in the wood and traced a fingertip along their paths. “She’s being charged with murder. They have a bloody knife with her fingerprints on it and a doze
n witnesses who claim they saw her stab Todd. And apparently he was stabbed to death, so...”
Maggie’s voice was soft as she gently asked me, “Selena, is there any way she could have done it? In self-defense, of course.”
I hesitated. More than anything, I wanted to tell the woman who’d saved me everything I’d seen the night before. But I was afraid that if I did, she would think I was crazy—or worse than crazy, a liar.
“I didn’t see any of it,” I admitted. “But she was with me when he died. There’s no way she could’ve killed him, Maggie. The last time I saw him he was awake and very much trucking along just fine.”
“Then the truth will come out, one way or another.” Her voice was comforting, even if I doubted that she was right. “If Talia didn’t do it, someone else did, and eventually the police will figure out who. You just have to hold on until it’s all over. If you’re lucky, you’ll be sharing your apartment with Talia by the end of the day.”
The thought that I might see my best friend again so soon was enough to put a lump of emotions in my throat. “There’s something else I should tell you.” I hesitated, the words thick and strange on my tongue. “There were other things that happened last night. Strange things... too strange to tell the police.”
Glancing up sharply from the food, Maggie looked over at me with her knowing eyes. “Let’s get the food on the table, and then you can tell me all about it.”
This was the part where I helped. Pushing my chair back, I went into the kitchen and gathered plates, bowls, glasses, cloth napkins, and silverware. Maggie never let me help cook, especially when it was traditional French Creole food she was making, but she always had me set the table for her. Even now that I was an adult living on my own without her, every time I came home for a meal I set the table. It was our own little tradition.
I’d often wondered, in the years since Maggie took me in, why I was her first and only foster child. It was unusual enough that even the social worker commented on it; most foster parents take in kids over and over again, or else try it once and decide it’s not for them. But Maggie only ever took me in, and she never kicked me out or sent me back into the system, even when I was trouble. She’d been a part of my life far beyond the point when I was still legally her responsibility—and for that, I owed her everything.