Page 33 of Don't Say a Word

Her wedding planner.

Tess put the book down on the table and had her finger in the middle, marking a page. “I’m going to show you two colors. Tell me which one for the dresses. Your gut.”

I didn’t want to be put in this spot, because what if I picked wrong and Tess hated it?

Tess said, “Get that look off your face. Mom and I narrowed itdown this morning to these two colors. I love them both. Mom loves them both. And I know you’ll be honest. You’ve always been honest with me.”

I breathed in deeply, slowly let it out. “Okay.”

She opened the book. One side of the page was red—true red, vibrant and bold. The photos she’d included were of weddings with men in black tuxes with bold red cummerbunds and the bridesmaids in long satiny red dresses. The flowers were mostly white with red rose accents. One photo had bouquets of white roses, lots of greenery, and a few red roses and yellow daisy accents. It was stunning.

The other side was subdued and no less beautiful. Sage green dresses, the men in dark gray tuxes with sage green cummerbunds. The bouquets were mostly white flowers with a few bursts of color and eucalyptus leaves. I loved it. Green is my favorite color and I could envision myself wearing the dress.

Yet... red. Tess was red.

Tess was tall, elegant, and graceful, with lush, shiny brown hair. Luisa and I had inherited hazel-green eyes—greener than our mom’s golden hue, but not blue like our dad. Tess on the other hand had large, striking chocolate-brown eyes. With her natural beauty and height, she could have easily been a model, and being surrounded by red on her wedding day would make her stand out in all the best ways.

I pointed to the red page. “This is you. Vibrant. Bold. Classy. You will stand out in your gorgeous white dress, and isn’t that the point? To shine a light on the bride.” Tears were running down Tess’s face and I swore out loud. “Well shit, Tess! You told me go with my gut. Okay, do green! I love green. It’s my favorite color.”

“No, no, it’s that—you’re right. And I love the red. I didn’t think I could get away with it because itisso bold, but Mom said... And then I thought... And it’s going to be perfect.”

She threw her arms around my neck and squeezed.

“Okay, okay,” I said and patted her on the back. “Jeez, Tess.”

“Thank you, Margo. I mean it.”

I didn’t know why she could do red but not burgundy, but decided not to say anything because Tess wasn’t mad at me anymore.

She stared at her book, head tilted. “Do you like the yellow accent? Or blue? Like a deep royal blue.”

“I think you can decide on that later.”

“I have to have the flowers ordered by next month.”

“Ask Gabriel.”

“He’s so busy.”

“I’m sure he’d like to make a small decision,” I said.

“I’ll talk to Mom tomorrow,” she said and closed the binder. “So, why did you come over? I know it wasn’t for wedding planning.”

“Shift gears to Elijah Martinez.”

“I was thinking...” Tess said, then bit her lip.

“What?”

“You don’t think he killed himself, do you?”

“Honestly, I don’t think so, but that’s because I don’t knowhim. On the surface he appears to be exactly what his mom said—good student, lots of friends—but Lena Clark admitted he was under pressure because of college and the honors program, plus he had a part-time job. Teens sometimes don’t think about the consequences of their actions. Until I know what was going on in his life in the days leading up to his death, I can’t rule anything out. I’m not running with that premise, but if I learn anything that steers me in that direction, I’ll follow. Until I talk to his friends I won’t have a clear picture.”

Friends often knew things that parents and teachers didn’t.

“Mom says that it’s not uncommon for someone to die because they were partying with people who didn’t want to get in trouble.”

It was true, but it disturbed me. When your friend had a medical emergency, you got help, period. Any consequences were nothing compared to death.