Secrets and Lies(5)

“Turn off your brights!” she yelled. She shielded her eyes as the car continued to drive toward her, but it was useless. Through the haze of white, she couldn’t make out a thing, not even the size of the car.

“Asshole,” she muttered under her breath. She hated people who acted as if they owned the streets. The car swerved a little, making Tenley jump. Spinning on her heels, she marched toward her house, the car at her back. This had been a long, crappy night, and she still had the Trudy Inquisition to face. Mr. I-Can’t-Drive-For-Crap could blast his lights all he wanted; she was going home.

She’d made it a few steps when something slammed down on the sidewalk beside her. Whatever it was shattered instantly, pieces flying left and right. Tenley shrieked and spun around. “What the hell?” she gasped.

In the street, the car idled only feet away. Its lights bore into her, blinding her. Her hands clenched into fists at her side. “Turn off your—”

She never got to finish. Something cracked next to her against the ground. Then something else. They were bottles. Another one came flying at her, sending bits of glass swirling around her like hail as it shattered to pieces. They were coming from the car. The driver was throwing bottles at her!

“Stop it!” she screamed as another bottle flew at her—then another. Suddenly they were coming fast and furious, the noise ringing in her ears as they shattered around her.

A bottle crashed into her knee, sending pain thrumming down her leg. Her heart pounded wildly. Why hadn’t she answered when her mom called? Asked her to come get her? What was she thinking walking home alone?

She turned and broke into a run. “I’m calling the police!” she yelled over her shoulder. But before she could reach for her phone, a bottle smashed into her back. Knives of pain radiated through her. She could barely breathe as she ran even faster, her feet kicking up fragments of glass as bottles crashed and crackled around her. She could hear the car tailing her, could feel its lights boring into her back, a spotlight.

A bottle landed against her ankle and another smacked against her shoulder blade. “Stop it!” she shrieked.

In response, another bottle sped toward her, missing her head by only a centimeter. She heard the car inching closer. She turned to look back, but at that moment a bottle slammed against her temple. Her head swam, her vision going fuzzy. As the bottle tumbled to the ground, splintering loudly, Tenley stumbled forward. “No!” she wailed. She tried to right herself, but she was too dizzy. Suddenly she was tipping over for the second time that night.

She landed hard on the pavement, a shard of glass stabbing at her palm. Tears filled her eyes as a thin line of blood sprouted on her hand.

She was struggling to pull herself up when she heard a noise coming from up ahead. Another car.

“Help! Someone!” Tenley yelled as she dragged herself to her feet. Immediately the mystery car cut all its lights and sped off—so fast, Tenley was left spinning. In its wake the night grew inky black. Then, seconds later, another set of headlights swept over her, lighting up the street once again.

“Ten Ten?” Her mom’s voice reached Tenley as if from a great distance. Her car screeched to a stop next to her.

“Mom?” Tenley choked back a sob as she threw herself into her mom’s car. “What are you doing here?”

“I got worried your phone died when you didn’t answer. I thought you might need a ride.” Her mom studied Tenley appraisingly. “What’s wrong, honey?”

“I—I was walking home and someone started following me, and… and…” Tenley trailed off, trembling all over. Her palm stung and a dull ache was spreading through her head, but all she could think about was that car. Whoever was in it had been following her, chasing her. The photo from Caitlin’s memorial flashed through her mind: her and Guinness, ensconced in a coffin. If her mom hadn’t shown up, how far would the driver have gone?

“Following you?” Her mom wrinkled her usually Botox-smoothed forehead at Tenley. “Ten, the street was completely empty when I got here.”

“No.” Tenley shook her head adamantly. “There was a car, I swear. It left when it heard you coming. The driver was throwing bottles at me!” Tenley could hear the whiny tone creeping into her voice, but she couldn’t seem to do anything about it.

“Bottles?” her mom exclaimed. “Are you sure?”

When Tenley nodded, her mom set her mouth in a grim line. “Do you want me to call the police? Echo Bay shouldn’t have riffraff like that running loose on the streets!”

Tenley leaned back against the seat of the car, breathing hard. That was exactly what she wanted. Her mom was right; people like that needed to be taken care of. She opened her mouth to say just that when her phone let out a sharp beep, like an animal waking from a deep slumber.

Tenley glanced at it. 1 new text, the screen flashed. The number was blocked.

All the air seemed to leak out of Tenley’s body. A drop of blood from her palm smeared against her phone, but she barely noticed as, slowly, she opened the text.

Mommy dearest won’t save you next time. This game is just beginning.





CHAPTER THREE


Monday, 11:40 PM


Sydney Morgan paced through the tiny, two-bedroom apartment she shared with her mom. The text message she’d gotten earlier had left her nerves completely frayed. The words were plastered across her mind like a billboard. Time for a new game, girls: Show and Tell. The only rule? Don’t tell. Or I’ll show your secrets to the world.

She’d spoken to Tenley earlier, and apparently she’d gotten the same one, too. Who could have sent it? Tricia was dead. But if not Tricia… who? And whoever it was, could they really know her secrets?

Tricia had known everything, all the worst things about her: her treatment for pyromania at the Sunrise Center, the fire she’d started years ago that no one had ever known about, and, of course, her dad’s dalliance with Emerson. In the wrong hands, that information could ruin her—not just destroy her family and kill her chances at getting a scholarship to the Rhode Island School of Design, but, thanks to that fire, maybe even send her to jail.

Sydney eyed her phone, silently debating calling her mom, who was working a late nursing shift at the hospital. But what would she even say? Guess what, Mom? The murderous, stalking darer I never told you about seems to have risen from her grave!

Right.

Brring! Brring!

The sound of her phone ringing made her jump. It was just Tenley. She sucked in a long, deep breath. She needed to pull herself together. “Hey,” she said, pressing the phone to her ear.

“Emerson got one,” Tenley announced, wasting no time with niceties.

Sydney’s hand tightened around her phone. “A message?” she asked cautiously.

“No, a pony,” Tenley snapped. “Yes, a message!”

Sydney fiddled nervously with the ring she always wore on her pointer finger. It was bad enough to hear from the darer again, but now to have to deal with Emerson on top of it? The thought made her sick to her stomach. Emerson had no idea that Sydney knew about her relationship with her dad—had no idea that the knowledge of it constantly haunted Sydney’s thoughts, like a ghost with a vengeance.

“It wasn’t a text this time, either,” Tenley continued. “It was a printed note. Waiting for her on her porch. And Sydney…” She paused. Sydney could hear her swallowing nervously. “It was written on a typewriter like the rest of them.”

Sydney inhaled sharply. “It’s really happening,” she whispered.

“All over again,” Tenley said tightly.

“I don’t understand. How? Tricia’s gone.”

“I have no idea. But whoever it is, they’re not kidding around. They attacked me on my walk home tonight.”

“What?” Sydney cried.

“Someone was throwing bottles at me from a car. I thought…” Tenley’s voice faltered. “Whoever it was definitely wanted to hurt me.”

Sydney stormed over to her window and snapped the shade up. It was a velvety black night, the kind that melted your vision around the edges. But the parking lot’s ancient lamp cast a dim glow over the rows of cars. She took a quick scan of the lot, relieved to find nothing out of the ordinary. She let the shade drop back. “How do you know it was the same person who sent the text?”

“Because I got another text after. The message made it pretty clear.” Tenley swallowed hard. “I think—I think we have to go to the cops. My mom wanted to call them after she picked me up. I stopped her after I got that text, but… I think she’s right. It’s time we involve the police.”

“Are you serious?” Sydney balked. “You’re really suggesting that after an entire month of giving us no-cop lectures?”

“No one was attacking me then,” Tenley shot back.

“No way,” Sydney said adamantly. “Not happening.”

“But—” Tenley began.

“No!” Sydney barked. She sat down at her desk and pressed her forehead against its cool, wood surface. Of course Tenley was fine with going to the cops. With Caitlin gone, the only secret she had left didn’t even count as one. Who cared about implants? No matter how much Tenley bemoaned its coming out, Sydney knew the truth would barely cause a ripple in her life. Sydney, meanwhile, could end up in jail for burning down three houses. She glanced at the RISD scholarship application she’d been slaving over for the past month. In jail there would be no darkrooms, and no prestigious photography degrees.