Kiss and Tell(25)

Sydney leaned against the back of the couch, emotions feuding for space inside her. Relief. Fear. Disappointment. She looked away, ashamed by the last one.

“Then what’s this about?” her mom asked.

“An anonymous source placed Sydney Morgan at the scene right before the fire started,” Officer Funley said briskly.

“What?” Sydney balked. A pit formed in her stomach. “I’ve been home all day!”

“I can vouch for that,” her mom jumped in.

Officer Funley pulled a small evidence bag out of the satchel she was holding. A slightly charred cell phone was visible through the clear plastic. Sydney’s eyes widened when she saw its case: neon orange, with a large S on the front. “We also found this on the premises,” she said briskly. “The case led us to wonder if it belonged to Sydney.”

“It does,” her mom said. “But I’m sure there’s an explanation for it. As I said, Sydney’s been here all day.”

The floor seemed to dip under Sydney’s feet. “I must have lost my phone at the party last night. Or—” She could feel sweat pooling under her arms. “Someone could have stolen it.”

“Two Winslow girls from Sydney’s grade were trapped inside the house when the fire began,” Officer Funley continued.

“Who?” Sydney interrupted. The walls were dipping now, too, making her feel as if she were underwater.

“It appears that neither sustained life-threatening injuries,” Officer Funley continued, ignoring Sydney’s question. “Thanks to their quick thinking. But both are in the hospital, and—”

“Why are they in the hospital?” Sydney asked frantically. Panic made her sweat even more. She could feel a bead rolling down her temple. “Are they okay? Will they be out soon?” She could tell how guilty the questions made her sound, but she had to know.

“They’ll be fine,” Officer Herman assured her. Her mom’s hand found hers, and Sydney held on limply. It had to be Tenley and Emerson. But what had they been doing at her dad’s apartment? She could think of only one answer. The darer had set this all up. But if that was true… and it happened at her dad’s home… was it proof that Tenley and Emerson were right? Was her dad really behind this?

“Let’s try again.” Officer Funley fixed her laser-sharp gaze on Sydney. “Think hard, Sydney. Were you at your dad’s place at any point today?”

“The more honest you are now, the better it will be for you in the long run,” Officer Herman offered. “Especially with your history of arson…” He trailed off pointedly.

Sydney shook her head helplessly. “I swear I wasn’t there.”

Officer Funley sighed. “Would you mind if we looked around the apartment, then? If you have nothing to hide?”

“Of course we have nothing to hide,” Sydney’s mom said sharply.

“Great.” Officer Funley smiled tightly. “Then, with your permission, we’ll take a look around.”

As the officers disappeared into Sydney’s bedroom, she sank onto the couch. Her mom stormed over to the kitchen and grabbed the phone. “Still no answer,” she said a minute later. “Where is your dad?”

Sydney was wondering the very same thing. Her mom picked the phone back up and dialed again. This can’t be happening. But even as the thought crossed her mind, Sydney could hear the cops moving through her bedroom, proof that it was.

This wasn’t just a scare—this was a crime. If Sydney was convicted of arson, she’d be forced back into rehab, or worse, juvie. Would her own dad do that to her?

Her mom dropped onto the couch next to her. Her eyes, so like Sydney’s own, were filled with tears. “Syd—”

“I didn’t do this,” Sydney cut in. She grabbed her mom’s shoulders. “You have to believe me.”

Officer Funley emerged from Sydney’s room before her mom could reply. “I’d like to ask you a question, Sydney.” She stalked over to the couch, her arms crossed against her chest. “Why is a search for ‘homemade explosives’ open on your computer?”

“Sydney?” Her mom’s voice was raspy. “What’s she talking about?”

Sydney drew in a breath. She’d spent hours researching online last night, trying to determine how someone might have thrown an explosive from the cliffs with that long rock bridge in the way. She must have forgotten to close the page. “I…” Sydney looked frantically between her mom and Funley. There was only one way to explain it. The truth bubbled up inside her, begging for release. And why should she stay quiet any longer? She’d listened to the darer. She’d played by the rules. And look what it got her: cops in her apartment.

“Someone’s after me!” It exploded out of her. Saying those words, hearing them in her own voice, made her feel stronger than she had in months. “Someone’s been texting me and threatening me, and I think whoever it is made a bomb. I think it’s the same person who killed Kyla Kern! That’s why I was Googling explosives. I was researching, trying to figure it out.” The longer she spoke, the better it felt. She was finally telling the truth. Whoever the darer was—her dad or not—the cops could help her. But as she looked between her mom and Officer Funley, their expressions were like one-two punches to the gut.

They didn’t believe her.

“It’s true!” She straightened up, shoving her hair out of her eyes. “Someone has been texting me, threatening to kill me if I told! Plug in my phone. If it’s still working, you can check. You’ll see—all the blocked texts. Whoever’s been sending them must have planted my phone at the fire and placed that anonymous call!” She pointed at a charger in the wall, and Officer Funley went to it with a sigh. A minute later Sydney’s phone powered on. “Look in my texts,” Sydney repeated firmly. She watched as Officer Funley tapped impatiently at her phone. The officer was silent as she scrolled through Sydney’s in-box. Sydney held her breath, waiting.

“I don’t see any blocked numbers.” Officer Funley yanked the phone off the charger. “And, frankly, I don’t appreciate stalling tactics, Sydney.”

“What?” The breath Sydney had been holding came out hard and fast. “That’s not possible.”

Officer Funley held up the phone and scrolled quickly through her texts. Further and further back. There were no threats, no blocked numbers. They must have all been erased before her phone was planted. Sydney buried her face in her hands, tears burning at her eyes. The darer beat them every single time.

“Did I hear someone say Kyla Kern?” Officer Herman emerged from Sydney’s room. A necklace was gripped in his gloved fingers. “Because I found this sticking out of Sydney’s backpack.”

The room blackened around the edges. All Sydney could see were the four gold swirly letters dangling from the end of the chain. KYLA.

“It’s not what you think,” she choked out.

“Then, please,” Officer Funley said calmly, “tell me what it is.”

Sydney stared mutely at her. She thought of the clown they’d found in the ocean, four words scrawled across its face. This is no joke. But that was just it, wasn’t it? It was a joke, and the darer was the only one laughing. Sydney opened her mouth, then shut it again. There was nothing left to say.

She’d been framed.




By the time the cops left, Sydney could barely think straight. Her mom was scurrying around like some kind of cartoon character, cleaning at warp speed. Sydney knew she should help, but the thought couldn’t seem to work its way from her head to her muscles. She remained immobile on the couch, her mind frozen on the same two thoughts.

The darer had framed her.

Was the darer her dad?

The shrill beep of the apartment’s buzzer made her jump. “Can you get that, Syd?” her mom asked wearily. Sydney dragged herself to her feet. Her limbs felt weighted as she made her way to the video monitor for a second time. The image on the cheap screen was fuzzy, and it took her a second to place the stoop-shouldered man outside. “It’s Dad.” One by one, she could feel her nerves waking up, blood rushing from limb to limb.

“Finally,” her mom sighed. “Buzz him up.”

“I’ll just go down and let him in. I need some fresh air anyway.” Sydney was out of the apartment before her mom could protest. The questions she had to confront her dad with were not ones she wanted her mom to hear.

“Sydney!” Her dad’s shoulders sagged with relief when she opened the door. Immediately, the wind whipped inside, lifting the hood on her sweatshirt. Her dad stepped into the building and closed the door behind him, shutting out the growing storm. “It’s so good to see you in one piece. When Officer Funley called and said there were two high school girls in my burning house… God, I was so scared it was you.” Sydney was shocked to see tears in his eyes. He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her into a rough hug. Sydney’s arms hung awkwardly at her side as her dad clutched her, but he didn’t seem to notice. “I’m sorry the cops were here, Syd.”