Page 28

By the end of the day, she’d told the story three times—once to Greg, once to Zack’s attorney, and once to Lucy’s. Tomorrow she’d write a sworn statement that would be disseminated to all four lawyers. It would say that on March 1, 2024, Hank Dillon had gotten drunk and thrown a bottle at his daughter, resulting in a contusion on her shoulder. Jodi would swear that the only person who knew about this until now was Emily Mills, who asked intimate details about the event. Tomorrow, each of the defense teams would submit a request for a search warrant of the Millses’ home to discover the journal in the upstairs bathroom.

And then there would be nothing to do but wait.

When Jodi had finished telling it the first time, she’d ignored Zack’s presence behind her in the doorway and focused on Greg. Her voice had wobbled, but she’d gotten it out.

Greg had stared at her over steepled fingers, and then said, “Does your father get violent with you often?”

“Not often, but Zack can verify that I have—um, felt unsafe before. So can Julian. And probably Oliver Burns.” She’d thought it was important to give as many witnesses as possible. As many people who could corroborate.

But Greg had nodded and asked softly, “And where are you living now?”

It wasn’t until she’d responded “With my aunt and grandma” that she realized Greg wasn’t asking questions as a lawyer, but as a father. Her eyes had welled with tears, and she’d sniffed them back.

He’d explained that because she was eighteen, there wouldn’t be any involvement from Child Protective Services, but she would need to prepare for the real possibility that her father would face legal action after this came out.

Jodi was still ruminating on that as Greg drove her to Rosa’s. Zack had offered, but she’d asked Greg instead. She needed space from him, and his silent presence during her confession to Greg felt like it was drowning her.

Her leg was bouncing as they pulled into Rosa’s driveway. “Will my dad go to jail?” Her voice was thin and scratchy.

“Not necessarily. He could be fined or receive probation. If you’d like to pursue jail time for him, I can assist—”

“No. I don’t want him to go to jail. I didn’t want any of this.” She looked down at her hands. “I just needed to tell the truth about a few things…”

She realized that almost every person she cared about was facing jail time at this moment. Rubbing her forehead, she thanked Greg for the ride and promised to call him if she needed anything.

Rosa was ranting before she’d even opened the front door. Jodi apologized for staying out all night and all day and then asked her to sit down.

“We have to talk about my dad.”

Rosa screamed and cried for an hour. Jodi made her promise she wouldn’t attack her dad when she saw him. They drove to the motel he was staying at while they figured out what to do with the house. When he opened the door, he smiled so big it almost broke Jodi’s heart in two.

“Jo, hey,” he said. “This is a nice visit.” He glanced behind her to Rosa, her arms crossed and her eyes boring holes into him. “Rosa.”

He seemed sober, thankfully, and when Jodi and Rosa came inside, there were no beer bottles cluttering the tables and nightstands.

“I have something to talk with you about,” Jodi said. Her voice caught and her body wanted to flee.

“Okay,” he said, sitting down on the end of the bed. Rosa sat at the small table near the window, and Jodi stood between them, facing her dad.

“I… I don’t like it when you drink.” Tears sprung into her eyes, and she felt like they’d drown her if they were let loose. “You get mean.”

Dad blinked at her, and then he seemed to deflate. He glanced at Rosa before saying to Jodi, “I need to cut back. I know. I’m sorry—”

Rosa snorted, interrupting him. Jodi waved her hand at her, reminding Rosa to let her talk.

“You get mean when you drink,” Jodi continued, realizing she could just say it quickly and be done. “And you have thrown things at me. Bottles. You threw a bottle at me once and it hit me.”

Her dad’s mouth opened slowly, staring at her slack-jawed. “What?” he asked quietly.

Jodi’s hands were shaking, so she stuffed them in her pockets.

“A beer bottle hit me once, and it left a bruise. I’m sorry to tell you this, but due to some things with the Emily Mills case, I had to tell the police about that.” She sniffed back her tears. “I would never press charges against you—”

“And she should!” Rosa yelled. “Your only daughter, Hank! The last thing either of us have of Josephine, and you—”

“Rosa,” Jodi said firmly. “Can you please wait outside now?”

Rosa stomped to the door with a glare, muttering under her breath. Once she’d slammed it closed, Jodi turned back to her father.

He was staring at the thinly carpeted floor. A solitary tear was trailing down his cheek.

Jodi looked at the ceiling, begging her own tears to fall back into her eyes.

“Jodi…”

When he didn’t say anything else, Jodi plowed forward.

“I got into CalArts. I didn’t think I could tell you because you’d be upset about money, but I’m really excited to go. I’m working on doing backdrops for theater and painting sets. It hurt my feelings when you didn’t come see Our Town last fall.” Her throat clicked, and her tears fell without warning. She felt her air being constricted, like water was lapping at her lungs. “You were available, you were just drunk. I came home after a show and you were asleep on the chair. You could have come.”

“I’m sorry. I’m…” He ran a hand over his head, still not meeting her eyes. “I should have been there. I’m sorry you didn’t feel you could tell me about college. And I’m sorry that I threw something at you, Jodi.” He finally looked up at her. “I love you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

She nodded at him, letting more tears fall.

“I’m gonna stop,” he said. “I’m done. I want you to watch me pour out what’s in the fridge.” He gestured to the little mini fridge.

“It’s okay. I trust you to do it.” Jodi sniffed. “Thank you for apologizing. I’m sorry that I had to tell the police.”

He waved his hand. “No, it’s fine. What happened with your friend Emily?”

Jodi gave him a very brief version of the story. Her legs were shaking, so she sat in Rosa’s empty chair.

“I have a few more months in Sacramento,” she said, “and I want to see you, but I don’t want to live with you.”

“I understand.” His chin wobbled. “We’ll get to Topgolf. And of course, I’ll be there for graduation.”

She smiled weakly. “I have to go. I have a lot to do.” Jodi took a deep breath and stood.

Neither of them moved for a hug, and Jodi was grateful. It was too raw. Her skin felt like fried electrical wires.

As she reached for the door handle his quiet voice floated to her.

“It’s hard, Jo. It’s really hard to not have the life you imagined. And to be alone for it.” His eyes lifted from the floor to look at her.

“You weren’t alone,” she said softly.

Her dad took a deep breath through his nose, his lips pressed tightly together. He nodded. “No. I wasn’t alone. I forgot that sometimes.”

Jodi chewed on the inside of her cheek, deciding if there was more to say or not. She opened the door and whispered, “See you soon” before closing it behind her.

The sunlight burst over her skin as she turned to face Rosa. She breathed deep, like coming up for air after being underwater for too long.

“It’s done,” she said. Rosa took her home.

On Monday morning, Jodi found Lucy standing at her locker before the first bell.

“Hi.” Jodi smiled weakly, but before she could say anything else, Lucy swept her into a hug.

“You didn’t have to do this,” Lucy said. “This has got to be really rough for you.”

Burying her face in Lucy’s shoulder, Jodi breathed in her scent. She felt like she hadn’t been hugged like this in months.

Jodi finally released her and stepped back. “I did have to. I don’t want anything bad to happen to my dad, but I also don’t want anything bad to happen to you. Any of you.”

Lucy nodded. “As soon as the police have custody of that second journal, my lawyer thinks the prosecution is going to drop everything. Hey, how did you know about that second journal?”

“I sorta… went looking for it.” Jodi winced. “I visited the Millses under false pretenses and snooped around.”

Lucy’s lips curled into a devilish grin. “Jodi Dillon, you badass.”

Jodi laughed and shuffled her feet.

“Also,” Lucy said, pushing her hair behind her ear, “Did I hear something about you and Julian?”

“Oh, dear. Look at the time.” Jodi grabbed her books and shut her locker, fighting the blush on her cheeks as Lucy cackled.

She spent the rest of the morning wondering what she wanted to say to Julian. Finally by the end of the day, she found him waiting for her outside her last class. Jodi chewed on her lip as she approached.

“I hear there are some very exciting developments happening with the Emily Mills scandal today,” he said, tilting his head with a smirk.

“There probably are.” She took a deep breath. “I’m headed to the theater building for tech rehearsal. Walk with me?”

He fell into step beside her. “The play opens this weekend?”

“Yeah. My part’s almost done, so now I just have to worry about Nikita’s costume changes.”

He cleared his throat. “So, look. I thought I’d hear from you after I left your dad’s. Maybe, like, a lot of yelling or crying. Or a brick thrown through my truck window.”

“I had to get my head on straight about it.” She glanced up and saw him looking at his shoes as they walked. “Sending that to her was not okay. So much of it was private. Things I never would have said if I’d known she would see it.”

He nodded. “I know.”

“I can’t pretend I don’t know about it.”

“I know.”

She stopped walking and faced him. “You do?”

“Jodi, I knew what I was doing when I gave you that USB.” There was that look in his eyes again, like he was tired. He stepped back and tossed over his shoulder, “Leave me a ticket at the box office, yeah?” as he walked away.

Jodi stared after him, wrapping her mind around the next truth she had to tell and wishing she’d had more time with this version of him.

Jodi sat at the coffee shop a few blocks from school on Tuesday morning, sipping something sugary. Her knee was bouncing under the table as she kept an eye on the door.

When it swung open at precisely 7:30 A.M. , Jodi’s hands jerked to her cup while Detective Harding swept her eyes over the coffee shop. As she dropped into the chair opposite her, Jodi noticed that Harding’s makeup was perfect, her blouse crisp, and her hair pulled tight. She set her designer bag—fake, but it was a good try—on the chair next to her and smiled.

“Miss Dillon. Glad to see you finally ‘remembered’ where Emily Mills’s cell phone could be,” she said sarcastically. “Now, what’s this about?”

Jodi reached into her pocket with shaking fingers and placed the USB drive on the table between them.

“What’s this?”

“This is what Julian Hollister texted Emily Mills the day she died.”

Harding’s eyes lost their faux-bored look, narrowing on Jodi’s face. She sat forward and folded her hands. “Is it? How do you know?”

“Because Julian gave it to me.”

Red lips pressing into a thin line, Harding stared at the USB. “What’s on it?”

“It’s… I guess you could say, it’s proof that we didn’t like Emily Mills.”

“Who’s ‘we?’”

“The Thrashers. It’s a collection of screenshots, private conversations, private TikToks… Stuff that Emily was never supposed to see.”

Harding sat back in her chair. She reached for the USB and plucked it up between her red nails. Her eyes flicked to Jodi. “Why did Julian Hollister give this to you?”

She swallowed. “Because we… I don’t know. But we were maybe going to… date, or not really but…”

Harding blinked at her, brows jumping. Her face pinched into an expression Jodi didn’t like. Something like pity.

“Jodi,” she said softly. “I’ve known people like your friends all my life. Boys like Zack, Julian—they don’t date girls like us.”

Jodi jerked her gaze away. Her eyes caught on Harding’s shoes, the fake Louboutins. Harding still wanted to be like them , even after fighting tooth and nail to get some petty high school revenge. In twenty years, Jodi didn’t want to still be worrying about whether or not she was a Thrasher.

Harding leaned forward. “Thank you for bringing this to me, Jodi. It was very mature of you to put Emily and the Mills family ahead of your own friendships.”

“I just wanted to tell the truth and be done with it.”

Harding nodded and dropped the USB into her bag. Jodi heard it land like a gavel.

“Wait,” Jodi said. “He texted her two things, you guys said. One was the link to this. What else did he say?”

Harding took a deep breath. “I suppose you’ll know soon enough. He sent her the link, and under it, he said Jodi doesn’t care if you live or die.”

It felt like a sword had been plunged through her chest. “That’s not… that’s not true—”

“We know.” Harding’s mouth pressed into a quick grin. “But unfortunately for Julian… it’s enough for intent.”

Intent. Jodi shivered. This was it. She had handed over the final nail in his coffin.

Standing from her chair, Harding swept to the door before stopping to turn on her painted heel.

“How does it feel?” she asked with a smile. “From all the evidence I’ve gathered, this is your first time.”

Jodi’s brows came together. “First time what?”

“Thrashing someone.” Harding smirked and waltzed out the door without waiting for her answer.