My cell phone rings at eight in the morning. Who calls at eight on a Saturday? It’s Mrs. Whyse, who says she’s coming over to talk to Patricia again. I think about going back to sleep, but I just had that cliff dream again and almost fell right out of bed. I can hardly believe the events of yesterday. It has to be Tony. He even said when he got angry about the army rescinding his ROTC scholarship that people who break their promises should suffer the consequences.
Just after nine Mrs. Whyse pulls up. Mom is sound asleep and snoring, so I close the door to her room. I can handle this myself.
Mrs. Whyse and I walk to Patricia’s side of the duplex. Patricia meets us at the door wearing a pair of sweats and a pink hoodie—the same clothes she wore yesterday.
“Can we talk to you for a moment?” Mrs. Whyse says.
Patricia shrugs and steps out onto the porch.
Mrs. Whyse says, “You swear you were with Tony the whole time the night the truck tried to run Alex off the road?”
Patricia’s hair is mussed and dark circles show under her eyes. She casually leans in the doorway, a hint of a sneer appearing on her face. “Well, no. I wasn’t there the whole time.”
“I knew it!” I blurt.
Mrs. Whyse shoots me a look, and I cover my mouth with my hand.
“He left in his truck, was gone for about an hour, and then came back,” Patricia says.
“What was he wearing?” Mrs. Whyse asks.
Patricia confidently puts one hand on her hip. “Jeans and a black hoodie.”
“All black?” Mrs. Whyse asks.
“Yeah,” Patricia says. “Except for a skull and crossbones on the back.”
“I’m going to the police,” Mrs. Whyse says.
Just then, Tony’s truck roars up the driveway.
“Oh no,” I say. “We have to get out of here.”
Patricia, straightens up, smirks, and crosses her arms over her chest. “That’s a great idea,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Maybe I have to get out of here too.”
Mrs. Whyse tries to talk some sense into her: “Patricia, you might not be safe yourself.” We hear Tony’s door slam. “You need to stay away from him!”
I look to see Tony leaning against his truck, the engine still running. He has his arms crossed and a cruel grin on his face.
“Well, well,” he says, “looks like a party. Unfortunately, we’re just leaving.” He nods his head in the direction of Patricia, and I see she’s hastily throwing clothes in a suitcase.
“You don’t have to do this,” Mrs. Whyse tries to reason with her. “We can keep you safe, I promise.”
“Yeah right,” Patricia laughs. “Just like my parents, you can’t see the truth. Don’t you get it? I’ll always be safe with Tony.” She hustles past us, dragging her suitcase behind her. Tony gets in the driver’s side and puts the truck in reverse. Just as Patricia opens the passenger side door, she stops and turns to us.
“Tony gets it,” she says. “You can’t count on anyone. They’ll break their promises and let you down every time. So we’re counting on each other.” She gets in the truck, and Tony peels out of the driveway.
I walk down the driveway, dust swirling around me. The day looks just like it did in my dream—dark and foggy. After a few minutes I find myself walking the path to the bridge.