Page 33
Dustin knew something was wrong, but he didn’t know what.
“You don’t look so hot,” Cary said with a frown. Laney had just gotten home from school. She was pale, the circles under her eyes more noticeable, and her nose was running. “You sick?” Cary reached out with the back of his hand to touch her forehead, but she flinched, ducking out of the way.
“I’m fine,” she said. “Cramps. I need to go lie down.”
Cary scowled, and she disappeared to her room.
Shane didn’t come home that night.
By the next morning, Dustin was straight-up worried and didn’t know what to do. Laney still hadn’t emerged from her room, not for food or even to pee as far as he could tell, and there was no sign of Shane. Cary was in an unusually good mood, but whether it was due to Shane’s absence or the petite blonde girl that had joined him and Sarita in their room for most of the night, Dustin wasn’t sure.
It was Thursday morning, and Dustin needed to get to the bakery. He’d been hoping Shane would be back to drive him – Shane always drove him, now that he had a truck – because it was cold and, honestly, his leg still hurt when he had to walk up the big, long hill. He felt guilty, and selfish, for thinking about a ride when something might have happened to his friend. But his gut told him Shane was fine, he just wasn’t here.
He quietly opened the door to Laney’s room to check on her.
She was curled into a tiny ball, facing the wall, her arms wrapped around herself like she was trying to keep her guts from spilling out all over the bed. But she was asleep, and Dustin knew she wasn’t sleeping much these days. He decided not to ask her about Shane, to leave her be, just for a little while longer. They could talk later.
He turned to leave, and that’s when he noticed his drawing. The one he’d given Shane, who had apparently given it to Laney. The one of the two of them together. The one that made his stomach feel weird.
He untacked it, quietly, and slipped it under her bed. Safe.
As he walked to work in the dark, he tried to shake off the feeling that he should have burned it.
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