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We ducked out of the fire exit and into the smoking area. The light from the afternoon sun didn’t reach over the top of the buildings, making the alley suitably dim. I followed Brooke’s lead, picking my way through the piles of trash and hoping the murky puddles of water didn’t stain my white sneakers.

‘This way,’ she said, turning sharply right at the mouth of the alley and taking off at a brisk pace.

I had no idea where we were going, though I didn’t mind that Brooke was taking over my expertly conceived escape plan. It was almost a relief to have someone else be in charge.

After a minute, I noticed someone was following us, and I was filled with an overwhelming need to cry. We needed a break. Just one little break.

‘You’ve seen the cops, right?’ Brooke murmured as we waited to cross the street.

I made a show of looking both ways, watching traffic, and caught glimpses of the two uniformed officers walking up the street toward us. They weren’t running, clearly not in a rush, but they hadn’t been far behind us since we’d left Starbucks.

‘This can’t be real,’ I said, my voice cracking.

‘Don’t start,’ she said sharply. ‘We just need to keep going. Don’t run.’

The cops were getting closer, then finally,finally, the lights changed, and we could cross the street.

The police officers crossed, too, still strolling easily. I glanced back over my shoulder and one of them caught my eye. He turned to his colleague and said something I couldn’t hear. Then they started walking faster.

The coffee turned sour in my stomach.

They were definitely following us.

Did they think we’d stolen something? Or were we in trouble for sneaking out of the Starbucks? I couldn’t think why that would be a problem, not unless the blonde lady had called the cops on us.

Even if the police following us was a total coincidence, I didn’t like the idea that they could recognize me later from police reports about a teenage murder suspect from Seattle and tell someone I’d been in Salt Lake City. They might think we were planning to keep going south to Las Vegas or Phoenix, or maybe Mexico. The panic hitched in my throat. I didn’t want anyone tracking us – that was why we’d thrown our phones in the damn lake in the first place.

The route back to the parking lot was an almost straight line, meaning we didn’t have many chances to take a side street and get out of their line of sight. I was desperate to run, even though Brooke had told me not to. I wasn’t sure I could run, either – my heart was beating sofast and I didn’t think I would be able to take a deep enough breath.

All of a sudden, we were back at the parking lot.

I followed Brooke silently to the car, wanting to check over my shoulder every thirty seconds to see if the cops were still behind us, but instead forcing myself to relax.

Calm down, Jessie.

We pulled out of the lot in silence, passing the police who were still on foot but clearly heading in the direction of the parking lot.

‘Did they see us?’ Brooke asked.

‘I don’t know. I don’t think so.’

Traffic was heavy until we got onto the I-70, then Brooke pulled her hair loose from its ponytail and stepped on the gas.

‘This is messed up, Mouse,’ Brooke said as she merged into the outside lane and picked up speed. ‘How the hell did they find us here?’

‘I don’t know,’ I said, my voice rising into a desperate sob. ‘Maybe Chris really is an undercover cop.’

‘Shit,’ she muttered. ‘I still don’t understand why you didn’t tell me about last night.’

I wasn’t surprised Brooke was upset. It was a big thing to have kept from her.

‘I thought it wouldn’t be an issue once we left the motel.’

Brooke sighed and pushed her fingers through her hair. ‘All right. Just don’t keep stuff from me in the future, okay?’

‘Okay,’ I said, knowing it was a lie. I was keeping a lot from her.

I picked a new cassette and shoved it into the player, still obsessively watching the road behind us, waiting for sirens or flashing lights.