Page 36

THIRTY-FIVE

Through the window leading into his office, I can see Mr. Lake standing behind his desk, head lowered.

My hand hesitates on the doorknob. I don’t want to endure another tongue-lashing from my boss. We’ve had more disagreements in the past week than in all the years before that, Evie’s disappearance bringing out the worst in both of us.

Taking a deep breath, I push open the door.

“Sit,” he says, still not raising his head.

“I’m okay with standing,” I say, trying to hold onto what little power I have left.

When he looks at me, I can see the exhaustion on his face. Evie’s disappearance has taken its toll on all of us, but Mr. Lake is tasked with handling all of it—the police, the school board, the parents. That last one, I’m guessing, is the reason he’s called me into his office.

“Did you threaten your team with going to the police?” he asks.

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“The meeting you had before lunch. I’ve had three different mothers call and say that you harassed their daughters and threatened to speak with the police.”

“And I bet I can guess who those three were,” I say, snidely.

“Answer my question.”

“I didn’t threaten anyone,” I say. “I asked them all questions, and based on what they told me, I told them I was going to the cops. Which I did.”

“The girls made it sound like you were wanting to get them in trouble.”

“That’s not the point,” I say. “Besides, they can only be in trouble if they have something to hide.”

“They’re young girls,” Mr. Lake says.

“Which is why I called them into a meeting with me,” I say. “I figured they’d be more truthful with me than their parents. Or the police. I immediately reached out to Detective Fields with what they told me. I followed protocol,” I say, conveniently leaving out that I also contacted Nadia.

“Protocol would have involved me,” he says. “I didn’t know anything about this impromptu meeting in the middle of the school day.”

“Maybe the girls have been given too much time to get their stories together.”

“You say it like you think they’re behind this.”

“They didn’t tell us everything,” I say. “My conversation with Kelly proves that.”

“Is that why you didn’t involve me?” he asks. “You’re still mad I didn’t tell you about some schoolyard mischief. We have no proof that any of the students at this school were involved with her disappearance.”

“But we do have proof they’re willing to lie to protect themselves,” I say. “If we care about what happened to Evie, we need to push them as much as possible.”

Mr. Lake’s phone buzzes on his desk. He picks it up, seemingly grateful for a distraction. Just as quickly, he puts his phone back down and starts typing on his computer.

“They’ve been able to uncover some of the damaged security footage,” he says. “Reynolds just sent it to me.”

Someone knocks on the office door. When I turn, I see Reynolds has poked his head inside.

“I thought you were alone,” he says to Mr. Lake, when he sees me.

“Come on in,” Mr. Lake says. “I’m trying to pull up what you sent me.”

Reynolds shuts the door behind him. He runs his fingers through his hair before resting his hands on his hips. I feel as though he’s avoiding looking at me.

“Maybe this isn’t the best time?—”

“I want to review this footage now,” Mr. Lake says. “Cass, look at it with me. You were there that night.”

Reynolds stares at me now, the expression on his face hard to read. Eyes wide, jaw clenched. He knows something.

“Have you already watched it?” I ask him.

“Yes. Evie doesn’t appear on the video. I think it would be best if we?—”

“It’s working,” Mr. Lake says, turning the computer screen around so that we can see.

“Reynolds already said there isn’t anything about Evie,” I say, panicked.

“It might give us insight into what the other girls were up to,” Mr. Lake says. “They’re the ones you’re worried about now, right?”

The screen is divided into six sections, each highlighting the various security cameras around the school: the front parking lot, the main corridor, the gymnasium, auditorium and two main hallways. The last one, a video of the back parking lot, is one I didn’t know about. Now I know why Reynolds is acting so weird; he’s seen what I did.

“Since when do we have a camera in the back lot?” I ask, my voice shaking.

My gaze focuses on that one square, terrified my image will appear any minute. I’d been able to avoid any cameras inside the school, but I didn’t know about this location. The placement is at the perfect spot to see me opening the back door and propping it open.

“We added them in January,” he says.

The pit in my stomach plummets further. How much have they been able to recover? Enough to tell us what happened to Evie? All of it? The part that shows me opening that door?

That seat he’d offered earlier calls to me. My knees are so weak, I think I might faint. Reynolds has already seen the video, and based on the way he’s looking at me, he knows something. He knows what I did. That’s why he came straight to Mr. Lake’s office. He wanted to tell him what he’d seen, and didn’t expect me to be here.

“Mr. Lake, please,” Reynolds says. The dread in his voice bothers me, makes me feel ill. “We should talk before?—”

“There’s something,” Mr. Lake says, pointing at one of the screens. He starts typing on his computer, trying to enlarge the video.

My chest is stuffed with hot air, as I struggle to think. How will I explain? What should I say?

Before I can complete a thought, I realize Mr. Lake isn’t pulling up the camera feed from the back parking lot. It’s zoomed in on the front parking lot.

“Who’s that?” Mr. Lake asks.

A man walks past the rows of cars, his back to the camera, heading to the main entrance. At the sight of him, my body wilts in relief.

“That’s Connor,” I say. “My fiancé.”

Mr. Lake looks at me, confused. “You never told me he was there that night.”

“He came shortly after the parents left,” I tell him. “He brought me some food. Hours before anything happened with Evie.”

“Mr. Lake,” Reynolds says, trying in vain to make us stop watching. I still can’t understand why. “We don’t need to keep?—”

But it’s too late. Before Connor can enter the school, the main door opens. A woman walks outside, wrapping her arms around his neck. The two kiss, swaying from side to side in the parking lot.

“Is that you?” Mr. Lake asks.

“No.” I choke on the word, unable to pull my eyes away from the screen. “That’s Joanna.”

My assistant coach. The younger sister of Connor’s best friend. In the video, her arms are still wrapped around Connor. You’d think the cameras had caught two students playing tonsil hockey. In the two years we’ve been together, I don’t think he’s ever acted that happy to see me.

I look over at Reynolds. He’s already watched the tape. This is what he didn’t want me to see. Now, he won’t meet my eyes. His cheeks are red, but unlike in the past, I don’t believe it’s from pride. It’s embarrassment, shame even.

“I tried to warn you,” he says, weakly.

“I don’t understand,” Mr. Lake says, his eyes inspecting the couple onscreen. “Are you sure that’s your fiancé?”

“I’m sure,” I say through gritted teeth. I recognize his walk, the way he stands. I can even see the bag of snacks he’d brought me that night. He said he wanted to surprise me, but that can’t be true. He wanted to surprise Joanna.

Joanna looks back at the school, removing her hands from Connor’s body. She takes a step in that direction when the screen turns black.

The silence in the room is suffocating. I can’t believe I’ve just uncovered my fiancé’s infidelity in front of my boss and my nemesis.

“Reynolds,” Mr. Lake begins, his voice matter-of-fact, “Was there anything else on the tape?”

“No. That’s what I was trying to tell you,” he says. “The IT team is still trying to uncover the rest.”

Which means it’s only a matter of time until they do see the truth. They’ll see me leaving the gymnasium and walking down the computer lab hallway, opening the door.

“Cass, are you okay?” Mr. Lake asks.

I can only imagine the look on my face. Inside, I feel exhausted, drained of all life and color and feeling.

“Do you need anything else from me?” I ask, standing.

“Just remember that our parents?—”

“Got it,” I say, cutting him off. I can’t stand the pity in his voice. “No more investigating on my own.”

Before he can say anything else, I’m out the door, marching in the direction of my office.

“Cass?”

I turn around to see Coach Reynolds only a few steps behind me. I ignore him and continue moving forward.

“Cass, wait. Are you okay?”

“Why do you even care?” I halt, turning on him with a viciousness I’ve always managed to contain in his presence. “This must be a great week for you. First, you get to watch my career unravel. Now, you get to see my relationship fall apart.”

“I’m not happy about any of this,” he says, reaching for my shoulder. “I tried warning Mr. Lake. I didn’t know you’d be in there.”

“Good thing I was,” I say. “There’s nothing worse than being the last to know.”

I wonder how many other people have seen this video. The IT team. The police. If Detective Fields has seen it, she’ll recognize both Connor and Joanna. The humiliation is too much to bear.

“I can cover your classes the rest of the day,” Reynolds says. “You know, if you need to take some time.”

My first reaction is to lash out with another cruel remark, but I realize how important his offer really is. I don’t need to be here right now. And if I stay holed up in my office the rest of the afternoon, I’ll just keep replaying my thoughts, wondering exactly where I went wrong. How I could have missed that my assistant coach and my fiancé were having an affair right under my nose.

“Thanks,” I say, turning quickly. I pause again and look back. “Please, don’t mention this to anybody else.”

“I won’t,” he says.

There’s that same pity in his voice, and yet it isn’t as infuriating as I thought it would make me feel, and I’m not embarrassed by it. I’m simply grateful someone is willing to handle things here so that I can handle things at home.