JANE DROVE TREVOR’S truck back to his house. The easygoing party had wound down; only a few people remained. Trevor met her at the door and said, “What’s wrong?” and she said, “I can’t go home right now. Can I just sit out in the backyard? Alone?” She wished her voice sounded stronger. She had felt like her legs would give way on the way back to his truck.
He nodded. She went and sat under the stars and watched the spill of the bright lights across the black sky. The party noise, now down to only a bit of stray laughter, went quiet; she realized Trevor must be easing the few remaining guests out. She sat there, sick with her own betrayal of her friend, sick with Kamala’s retaliation against her, sick with the thought that Adam felt about her in a way she couldn’t return. If only I hadn’t been with David. If only David and I had made a better choice. A more thoughtful choice. If only Kamala had forgiven me. If only she had never found out. If only Adam had just told me. All the possibilities, all the decisions, all the twists of fate. Life, with a hundred different paths.
Nana came out, walked over to her, and gave her a hug as Jane stood. For a second Jane thought he’d told Nana everything, but then she knew he wouldn’t. Nana said, “I’m glad you came here, sweetie. I hope you have a good night.” And then she went back inside the house.
After a few minutes Trevor came back out. He carried a beer and a bottle of water. He offered both, but she took the water. He sat next to her.
She said nothing, dreading him asking questions, but he said nothing. She had never been so relieved to have a guy be silent, just letting her be.
“I made a mess of everything,” she finally said. “Even before David died.”
“I should have stayed home that night. Waited for you to tell me what was happening. But David was one of my best friends and you were…I just needed to know.”
“Why did you even like me?” She kicked at the dirt.
“I’ve always liked you. Ever since you took down that big-bowed girl for making fun of me and my incredibly fashionable husky jeans.” He wasn’t looking at her.
She laughed. She couldn’t help herself. “Yeah. Mr. Cool Football player and Miss Dressed All in Black.”
“Right, I’m so cool I ask my nana to cook for my parties. It’s a level of cool many dream of but few achieve.”
“Smart move, it wasn’t nearly as messy as it should have been. Could I sleep on your couch tonight?”
Now he glanced at her. “Sure. But why?”
“Well, Adam has a roommate now, so that’s no longer an option. And I think he left here because he’s mad I was talking to you.” Trevor said nothing to that, and she didn’t want to talk about Adam, so she continued: “I’ve learned just how awful Kamala and I have treated each other. I don’t feel like going back to my house and confronting my mother about the miscarriage she kept from me. I just don’t feel up to it.”
“Yeah.”
“What will Nana think?”
“She’s gone to her sister’s house and my dad’s in Dallas at a conference this weekend. It’s just us here.” He didn’t look at her, he didn’t try to freight the words with meaning.
Finally, she said, “I know I asked you for help tomorrow. But it could be really dangerous and now I don’t think you should be involved.”
“I’m not scared. You’re not alone in whatever this is.”
He was near; she could probably lean over and kiss him if she wanted to and if he was all right with that. But she didn’t. She hadn’t had much human contact for a long time now; a hug from Mom or Adam just wasn’t the same. But she couldn’t. Not yet. Not now. There was too much to do, and she was such a mess.
“You can have my room,” he said. “I’ll put fresh sheets on the bed and I’ll take the couch.”
“I’m not throwing you out.”
“You’ll have more privacy. I’m not Adam or your mom. I’ll let you be.” The way his words echoed her thoughts jarred her. He got up and dusted the grass off his jeans. “Are you hungry? Nana left food. I was so busy hosting I forgot to eat.”
“Trevor, wait.” She dreaded asking. “How did you know about the miscarriage?”
He crossed his arms. “You were still in your coma. I arrived to visit you as they were treating you in the room. I heard the nurse say ‘miscarriage’ to your mother—they had their backs to me, and neither of them saw me. I think maybe it had just happened or it was happening. I backed out of the room, and I walked away as more nurses hurried in. But I heard them say it very clearly.” He paused. “So I knew you and David must have…”
“So you kept your distance.”
“I thought it was best. You didn’t remember it. Or even me as your boyfriend. I wasn’t going to insist you try. You had an avalanche of tragedy to deal with, I just didn’t want to hurt you or to confuse you more.” Now he looked at her. “And I thought, of course, that your mother would have told you.”
“Are you mad at me for David, being with him?”
He let ten seconds pass. “It hurt, sure, but compared to what you were going through, my pain was nothing, Jane. I was just glad you were alive. Even if we weren’t going to be together…”
“Because I cheated.”
“No, because your mom told me to stay away. I tried to come by a couple of more times—you were resting. She wanted me gone. She was clear on that. It started to feel like you and I had simply never happened.”
“Did she know about us?”
“I told her. I didn’t tell her about looking for you or following you that night. I was embarrassed and ashamed. She said you obviously were in no condition to be in a relationship. I understood.”
Mom had purposefully kept Trevor from me. Maybe she thought he was the father? Or maybe she knew David was, and that was why she was arguing with Perri that night?
“I don’t know what to say. I don’t know why I would throw you over for David,” she said. “I don’t get it.”
“Well, you were in love with him for years. Or infatuation. The perfect boy next door. I think he was unattainable and then he wasn’t. My timing sucked. Or we weren’t right for each other after all.”
“But is that the kind of person I was?” she asked. “Hurting you, hurting Kamala? I’m not sure I want to know the answer to that.”
He knelt back down by her on the grass. “I think you’re basically still the same person you were,” he said. “Good and kind and funny. I still see the Jane I cared about in you. You’d had a hard time after your dad died. The light was starting to come back into your eyes.”
“That makes me weirdly hopeful.”
“Are you going to tell your mom you know?”
“I’m going to see how this goes with my therapist,” she said. “I need to save my weapons.”
* * *
Trevor made up the bedroom for her, left one of his oversized Lakehaven football jerseys for her to sleep in (it seemed a “girlfriend” kind of sleepwear, but she shrugged that thought off), and he retreated to the couch. She lay on the bed. His walls were still covered with photos from high school. She was in several of them, always with David and Kamala and Adam and a group of friends, but the two of them often stood together. They made an odd pair, but she thought she seemed to fit well under the crook of his arm. Then many pictures of him on the football field, with his teammates, before he got hurt. She dressed in the old, soft jersey of his and washed her face in his bathroom. For a moment she looked at herself in the mirror. She could have been a mother. She could have been so many things. She could have been with Trevor.
She could have been whoever she wanted to be.
She lay down. Sleep came in nearly an instant. But she woke up when she heard the pounding on the door.
She lay frozen on the bed; she heard voices in the den, talking quietly. She opened the door.
A man’s voice: “Are you alone in the house, Mr. Blinn?”
“No. A friend of mine is asleep in another room.”
“Was your friend at your party tonight?”
“Yes, she was.”
“Would you wake her, please?”
She thought of going and hiding but instead walked into the den, the jersey hanging halfway down to her knees. “Trevor, what is it?”
Trevor stood in pajama pants and a Lakehaven football T-shirt, hair tousled from sleep. There was a man in a suit talking to him.
“I’m sorry to disturb you. I’m Detective Foles with the Austin Police Department. And your name, please?”
“Jane Norton,” she said, feeling cold.
“Jane,” Trevor said. His voice was strained. “Someone attacked Amari at her apartment. A man who was with her was attacked, too.”
Brenda Hobson. Shiloh Rooke. Randy Franklin. She shuddered. “That’s terrible. Are they OK?”
“They were beaten with a crowbar.”
A crowbar. She sat down on the blanket that Trevor had spread across the couch. “Oh, no.”
“I understand that Ms. Bowman was at this residence for a party earlier. She had told her mother.”
“Yes, we’re all friends from high school.” He glanced again at Jane. “Did you see her leave with anyone?”
She shook her head.
“—and do you know what time Ms. Bowman left here?” she heard the officer ask.
Trevor said, “I didn’t see her leave, but it was a bit before ten. I think she was tired.”
“Did she have an argument with anyone here?”
“No. It was a very chill party. Jane?”
“I didn’t really talk to her, but she seemed fine.”
“Had you seen her earlier today, either of you?”
Jane answered first. “I did. At UT. What is the name of the man she was with?”
“Matteo Vasquez. Do you know him?”
How to answer. How long would it take them to find the connection between her and Vasquez? Not long at all. Maybe he was even there to talk to Amari about his new article. Interview her.
And someone had put a stop to that. Trevor glanced at her. Was he wondering if she…?
“I know who Mr. Vasquez is. He used to be a reporter at the paper.” Jane paused. “I recognize his name.”
Foles frowned. “That’s right. Do you know how they knew each other? She told her mother he wanted to interview her.”
“No,” she said truthfully. She didn’t know for sure and she saw no reason to volunteer more information. She could feel the weight of Trevor’s stare. “Are they going to be OK? How badly are they hurt?”
“I don’t have that information. Do you know if Ms. Bowman was involved in any suspicious activities? I have to ask. This was a coordinated attack. Someone knocked out the lights by her apartment, either before or after they were assaulted.”
“She’s an honors student and a track star,” Trevor said. “She’s a total girl scout.”
“Can you give me the names of whoever else was at this party?”
Kamala, Jane thought. As soon as she hears, she’ll tell all. Her or Vasquez being able to talk is a ticking time bomb for me. Liv Danger strikes again. Where was Perri when this happened? Or my mom? Or Cal? Or Adam?
“Would it be better if I write them down or text them to you?” Trevor said.
“Paper. Sure.”
Trevor began to jot down names.
“Sir?” Jane asked. “Can you tell us when this happened?”
“Around ten thirty. Her mother, whom she had called to meet her, found them at ten forty.”
Maybe Amari had said to her mother, This is all about Jane Norton. But Foles didn’t seem to react to her name.
“Were they robbed?” Trevor asked.
“I can’t say,” Foles answered. “You can’t think of anyone having a motive to attack her?”
“Maybe this was random,” said Trevor.
The detective took the list from Trevor.
“Which hospital is she at? Do you know?” Trevor asked.
“Breckinridge.” It was the downtown county hospital.
“But they’re not dead, right?” Jane asked. She couldn’t help herself.
“They’re not dead, last I heard,” Foles said.
“You should call her mom, Trevor,” Jane said. A wave of nausea passed through her.
Trevor gave her a hard look. “I think that’s everyone,” he said.
“Thank you for the information. Can I reach you here at the house again?”
“Sure. Jane is staying here temporarily,” he said. Jane said nothing.
Foles left. Jane folded herself on the couch.
“Jane…”
“I didn’t do this. You looked at me like you thought—”
“I know you wouldn’t. You couldn’t.”
“But they’ll think maybe it’s me. A crowbar, Trevor. And soon.” She stood. “You should call Mrs. Bowman and go to the hospital.”
“Come with me. Show everyone.”
“I can’t. I have to find this hacker drive that Adam gave my dad before he died. And I need to find out where the Halls were tonight. I can’t just accuse them. It would point everything back at me.” My mom. Where was my mom?
“Where will you go?” he asked.
“Home, first.”
“Here. Take my truck.”
“I’ll drop you off at the hospital.”
“I left Kamala off the list to buy you some time,” Trevor said. “I’ll say I forgot she was here, since I was in shock and it was so late at night.”
“Thank you.”
“Who is doing this? Who?” he asked.
“I don’t know for sure. I thought it was Perri Hall. But I’m not sure I can see her taking a crowbar to people.”
“She attacked you.”
“Still.”
“What about Mr. Hall?”
“No. I don’t see him either…but…Perri wouldn’t want Matteo writing about this if it made her look bad. She would care more.”
“Could she get someone to do this for her?”
It was a smart thought; Perri Hall was the type to keep her hands clean. She thought of Shiloh Rooke, just because he seemed the type to swing a crowbar, but he had no motive; he too had been attacked. “I need to see if I can get Perri Hall to talk.”
“Why would she talk to you?”
“I’ll give her a reason.”