31

Rodney Graves might be too old to run, but he’d radio the other cops and they’d be right on my ass. I ran and didn’t look back. Away from the crime scene, down Grand Avenue, trying not to act suspicious as I sprinted for my life. Just an everyday jogger . . . dressed in tight jeans.

There were Mrs. Lee’s Eyez posted everywhere around the library. And they were all looking at me, like she was still alive. I couldn’t breathe. I had to get out of there. I took another left and saw my escape: a bus. I frantically waved as the door was closing.

The driver frowned, but opened the door back up for me.

“Thanks,” I said, totally out of breath. There was enough change in the pants pocket to pay the fare. I ducked down in my seat and waited for a squadron of police to charge the bus. But the bus pulled out and no one else came after me.

Destiny would be fucked. This’d definitely get her a Level 6. They probably had her locked in some interrogation room, doing the whole good cop/bad cop thing. She was tough, but could she stand up to them?

I thought about just taking this bus out of town all the way back to my dad in Little Rock. I’d cross state lines and buy some time. Since he was a bail bondsman, maybe he could get me a good lawyer. Or at least arrange bail.

I knew I could cross the river into East St. Louis and Illinois. But Arkansas? I dug into my pockets. Five bucks. That wouldn’t get me far.

The bus was headed downtown. As soon as we turned up Seventh Street, I saw the Gateway Arch looming up ahead. The clouds were breaking up, so the Arch caught the sun, a giant silver horseshoe against a cold gray sky.

I needed to clear my head, to get perspective. I kept staring at that Arch and decided I’d finally go up to the top of it before they locked me away forever. It would buy me some time, and maybe seeing the world from that height would help me figure out what to do.

If not, I could always jump.

About fifteen minutes later, I got off the bus at the park that surrounds the Arch. I thought about calling someone who could loan me some cash. But the only person I could think of was Mom—that wouldn’t fly.

The only other person was Kalvin.

That made my stomach hurt, which made me think about the possibility that I was carrying Kalvin’s baby. It was just one more terrible thing to consider.

I sat down in the park under the Arch and tried to think. My whole situation seemed so hopeless. But somehow, sitting there, watching families running around on the grass, gave me space to breathe, at least for a little while. I just needed some perspective.

It felt like there was only one place to find some of that from here.

When I got to the base of the Arch and gazed up at the tiny windows at the top, it seemed impossibly big. It made no sense how someone could build such a thing. I walked down below to the visitor’s center, where they had all kinds of exhibits and movies and stuff. But I just wanted to get to the top of that thing.

They charged five dollars to ride the elevator up there. Well, that was the end of my cash. I stood in line for a good ten minutes to get past the ticket taker. I pulled my hat down and tried to act casual, though I could tell a fifteen-year-old by herself was a little suspicious. When we went through the metal detector, I almost lost it because it kept beeping. What is it with me and metal detectors? I was sure they’d pull me into a special room and within minutes figure out who I was and that’d be it.

I emptied my pockets and when they waved the wand over me, I realized it was my phone again.

When the security guy saw me pull it out, he kind of smiled and waved me through.

I swear I almost died. I quickly moved past to where the line stopped on a series of steps. People were standing in front of these tiny rectangles on a cement wall. A dead end? But then those rectangles opened and I saw they were tiny doors to the tiny elevators—I almost freaked again. These little pods were so small, I had to crunch down in my seat so my head wouldn’t hit the roof.

A family with two little kids joined me after I sat down. They were so excited. “We’re going to the top of the world,” the boy said to me.

I smiled and the elevator doors closed, making it even smaller. We began to move. Sideways. My eyes fell onto a sign that said TAMPERING WITH DOOR WILL RESULT IN PRISON AND A FINE.

Were those claw marks on the door?

A drop of sweat fell onto my hand, panic rising in my throat. The father looked at me like maybe he shouldn’t have let his family in here with this crazy girl.

My phone vibrated. It was almost too tight in there to reach into my pocket. But it kept going off, so I dug my sweaty hand in there just as the elevator suddenly lurched to an abrupt stop.

“What happened, Daddy?” asked the boy.

“Oh, sometimes these things get stuck. They’ll fix it and we’ll be on our way.”

I stared at the phone display. Destiny. “Well, aren’t you gonna answer it?” the boy asked. When I get to the top, I thought.

I stuck it back into my pocket and waited for it to go to voice mail.

The walls were closing in on me. Why wasn’t this thing moving?

My phone went off again. I pulled it out. Now Destiny was texting.

Where tha FUK r u????

Was this a trick? Were the cops all standing around waiting for me to answer so they could track my location?

I deleted the text.

“Why don’t you wanna talk to anybody?” asked the kid.

I looked away, the sweat kept building on my forehead. If that kid asks one more question, I’m gonna—

“Maybe she doesn’t want you listening in on her phone call,” said his dad.

“That’s silly,” said the boy. “Texts don’t talk!”

I glared at the tiny door, about to tear it open.

The phone went off again.

This time it was a call. My mom. I took a deep breath and answered.

“Hello?”

“Erica. Where are you?”

“I’m stuck in an elevator. Why aren’t you sleeping?”

There was a long pause.

“You better come home. The police are here and they want to talk to you.”

My heart stopped. “What?”

Now she was whispering. “They found your camera.”

“How do they . . . know it’s mine?” I asked innocently.

“Your name and phone number were engraved on the bottom, remember?”

I did now. Thanks, Dad.