Page 56 of You Belong Here

The house was too small for the three of us, though my mother was doing her best. She thanked Trevor for coming. She sat with us in the kitchen as we made a plan: There would be no more texting. No trail. Anything from now on could be used as evidence.

Trevor was heading to meet with Delilah, to talk to her about the lawyers—and what she should do in the meantime. My mother was taking care of things at the house. The money upstairs. Anything that might lead people to the reason Adalyn would have come here.

I needed space, and air, to think. Away from the history in the house, binding me to the past—and to Adalyn. I drove over to the deli to pick something up for Trevor, as thanks for earlier. Good coffee, fresh sandwiches. We’d been going nonstop for the last few days.

The parking lot behind the deli had been reopened now that Adalyn’s car had been towed away. The lot was pretty busy for an hour before closing. Maybe the proximity to the scene of the crime was increasing the allure.

I was glad to see Sierra back behind the counter. I introduced myself now as Delilah’s mother. “Thanks for looking for her,” I said. “It means a lot to know that you were out there. I’m sorry about what you had to find.”

Sierra tucked her dark hair behind her ear. “Delilah had been with me that night,” she said, “before she went missing. I was worried something had happened on the way back to campus.”

I nodded, then paid for the food. At least this was someone who could corroborate the first part of Delilah’s story.

Sierra handed me the change and the bag of sandwiches. “I saw her around, you know,” she said. But I didn’t know what she was talking about. “Adalyn. I recognized her photo on the news today. I just didn’t know it was her.”

On my first day back at the house, I’d seen a white bag in the garbage that looked identical to the one I now held. I couldn’t believe Adalyn had just gone walking out in the open here. Maybe she’d grown accustomed to it, at ease in her second life—but not satisfied in it.

The news had started to dig up pieces of her second life, but there wasn’t much. A string of rental homes. An inconsistent stream of jobs. It certainly wasn’t the life the Adalyn I’d known had once expected for herself.

“She stopped at the deli almost every day, and I had no idea. This whole town talks about her like she’s a legend, but no one even realized she was here, walking up the street. She wasn’t even hiding!”

“How long was she here?” I asked.

“A week, maybe two? I used to think she must really like our coffee. But looking back, I think she was following Delilah.”

I imagined Adalyn arriving at my parents’ house, driving through town, and seeing someone who looked just like me—my daughter. A double take. An entire second generation here, while she’d been living an unstable life, with no roots and no history. No name, even, to leave behind.

Delilah must’ve been such a stark reminder of what she’d missed out on, what she’d lost. The freedom she’d traded.

“Her car was found in the back lot,” Sierra whispered, eyes wide.

I nodded, a chill rising up my spine.

“I took Delilah on the trail back there. Wanted to show her the quarry before it got turned into a park and we all have to start paying for it.”

“I didn’t know that was happening.” I’d seen the new private-property signs but hadn’t realized the new owners were planning to monetize the site.

She shrugged. “Well, that’s the plan, not that anyone’s happy about it around here. But now I wonder if she was watching us back then, too. If she was always following us.”

A visible shudder rolled through her, transferring straight to me.

“She’s gone now,” I said. “It’s okay.”

I didn’t understand why Adalyn would taunt Delilah. Delilah was still practically a child. And Adalyn would’ve been forty-one. Surely she had better things to do than to make my child’s life a living hell.

I thanked Sierra and headed for the door. Half the tables were taken, people eating sandwiches, drinking coffee, and chatting.

I passed an older woman at a table by the window and recognized her as Cliff’s neighbor. “Hi,” I said, pausing over her table. “Beverly, right?”

She placed her hand on my arm. “Oh, I was so glad to hear Delilah was okay,” she said, gesturing for me to sit.

“Thank you. Can I get you something?” I asked.

“Oh, no, I’ve had my share.” She smiled. “The construction on the street is driving me crazy. I’m just waiting it out here until five. I’m glad they’re finally taking care of the mess, but I can’t even hear myself think.” She laughed. “I guess the Whartons finally got sick of seeing it, too.”

“The Whartons?” I asked.

She nodded. “Joseph Wharton. He owns most of the street. It was one of his houses that burned down. His insurance company has been dragging its heels.”

Cliff rented from Joseph Wharton. No wonder he had been nervous about turning over information about their family. He’d told me as much: that Wharton was someone he didn’t want to make an enemy out of.

“I didn’t know that,” I said. “I know his wife, Violet.”

She smiled. “He’s a nice man, for a landlord. Brings his stepson around in the summers to teach him the ropes. It’s nice to see a kid like that working. Not a common sight nowadays.”

I was confused. I didn’t know about any stepson. I’d been inside their house, seen their family photos. “Stepson?” I asked.

“Bryce, I think is his name,” she answered. Then she nodded to herself. “Yes, Bryce. Joseph sent him out to make a report this summer when we had a plumbing issue.”

I shook my head. “I thought he was a Wharton.”

She looked out the window, thinking. “Oh, I think he did change his name when Violet married Joseph. Like I said, it’s nice, the way they work together.”

“I didn’t realize. Good for Violet. He sounds like a good man. Seems like he’s given them all a good life.”

“Well,” she said, leaning closer conspiratorially, “it’s her who had the money anyway, from what I hear. Good for him, is more like it. They’ve done very well for themselves together since, though.”

I shook my head. Violet had not come from money. I knew her growing up. Knew where she came from.

“How did she come into money, do you know?” I asked. I had no idea what Violet did for work. Maybe it was an inheritance. Maybe she had a second secret life that I’d known nothing about.

“The settlement,” Beverly said. She gestured behind us, into the distance. “From the school.”

I shook my head again, not understanding.

She sighed like she realized she’d have to spell it out for me. “She was engaged to marry Charlie Rivers when he died in that terrible accident years ago. The family made sure everything went to her, especially since she was pregnant.”

I felt my shoulders tense, my spine go rigid. “Charlie Rivers is Bryce’s dad,” I said. I needed her to confirm it.

She nodded. “There’s another boy, too. A Joseph Junior, I think…”

Her wedding photo with the simple, spare jewelry—I wondered suddenly if it was the same pearl necklace that Charlie had taken from Adalyn, if he’d given it to Violet… or just left it behind.

And if it was the very same one, I wondered if Violet even knew where it had come from. If she knew it was the beginning of everything.

I stood, excusing myself. We had met Bryce on the very first day of orientation. Delilah had shaken his hand. Did he realize right away who she was? Was it when he saw her last name? Or was it when she started digging around, looking into her own history?

My ears were ringing. Bryce had been working in Dill and Beverly’s house. Cliff told me that Dill’s security keys had gone missing.

Bryce would have access everywhere with them. The dorms, the buildings, the tunnels.

What had he been told about the people who had come before him?

He must’ve hated Delilah. Hated everything she represented. And now she was back, at the same school, with no idea of the history she’d stepped into.

I barreled out the door, back toward the parking lot, and almost ran straight into a man in uniform. A shock of red hair against the sun in the sky. The scent of cinnamon gum.

“Whoa,” Officer Fritz said, hand out to brace me. And then he took a step back, looking me over. “Surprised to see you here, ma’am. I was under the impression you’d gone and left town today.”

So, they were definitely watching, like Trevor had said. They must’ve followed me all the way to the edge of town.

“No,” I said. “Just went to pick up my mother from the airport. But I’m back.”

I smiled at him, then continued on my way. I had nothing to run from this time.

I had nothing left to hide.

I was sure I had the answer. Bryce, with his own ID card for the school and a set of security keys.

Not Adalyn but Bryce taking the things from Delilah’s dorm.

Hearing through the grapevine that she was staying at her grandparents’ house, even though that wasn’t true.

Sneaking inside an unlocked window he’d found, writing a threatening message on the wall.

Had Adalyn seen him snooping around there? Had she known who he was?

She must’ve noticed him. I wondered if they’d spoken. And then I wondered if maybe she caught him inside.

I parked in the admissions lot again, then wove along the path to Beckett Hall. This time, I didn’t care if I was seen. Class was currently in session, but the doors were unlocked. A security guard I didn’t know was stationed inside the door.

I gestured down the hall. “I have a meeting with Cliff Simmons,” I said.

He nodded me along but watched my path. There would be no sneaking around this time.

Adalyn had been the one to come in here just before midnight. What was she doing? Where did she go from here? How did she end up dead at the quarry a few hours later?

I paused at the office for student life, about to knock on the glass pane to get Cliff’s attention.

But I was done asking for permission here. Instead, I turned the handle and let myself inside.

Cliff looked up from his desk, quickly minimizing a student schedule.

I frowned at the access he had. The way he could know where anyone was if he so chose.

His eyes went to the open door behind me, as if confirming we were alone before speaking. “What do you want now?” he asked, leaning back in his computer chair.

“Bryce Wharton,” I said. “He has Dill Lawrence’s missing keys.”

Cliff shifted forward quickly, elbows on his desk. “How do you know that?” he asked.

“Because I talked to Dill’s mother, Beverly. She told me Bryce used to come around to their house in the summer, working for Joseph Wharton.”

Cliff shook his head, brushed his overlong hair back from his face. “That doesn’t prove anything,” he said.

“No, it doesn’t prove anything.” But it was something. I tapped my hand on the surface of his desk. “Did you know he’s Charlie Rivers’s kid?”

Cliff stared at me, something growing in the silence between us. The long reach of the past coming back for us both.

“I did,” he finally said. “But he’s been raised a Wharton.”

I dropped my voice, leaned closer. “You asked me earlier: why you and why Delilah.” I left the rest unspoken. “Ever thought that might be the answer?”

The reason was the same, but the person was different. Not Adalyn but Bryce.

Cliff continued to stare, but I couldn’t read into his expression: whether he thought I was way off base; whether he agreed.

I took a deep breath. I’d said what I’d come to tell him. “I don’t suppose you’ll let me see that,” I said, gesturing to his computer.

He blinked slowly, then leaned back, the chair squeaking with the shift in weight. “If you’re looking for your daughter,” he said, “she’ll be coming out of the theater soon.”

I could see snippets of Adalyn’s path in the night. Starting at my house, where she might’ve seen Bryce Wharton leaving threatening notes.

Hey there, Delilah

I can still see you

Did you think you could hide?

Maybe she noticed Bryce following my daughter. Maybe she wasn’t after Delilah herself. Maybe she was trying to find out who this kid was. Maybe she was trying to protect Delilah.

Maybe she felt she owed me something after all.

As I left Cliff’s office, another possibility emerged. She could’ve taken Delilah’s phone to access Beckett Hall—not for the tunnels, not to hide, but for this.

The information she could find. About Bryce. About Delilah. Their phone numbers, their email addresses. Bryce’s class schedule. His dorm room. Trying to discover who he was and what he was after.

I waited outside the theater, watching as a group of freshmen spilled out in a bunch. Delilah was near the front, and I raised my hand to her. She hitched her bag onto her shoulders and headed my way.

“Did you talk to Dad?” she asked.

“No, not yet—”

She held out her new phone. “I showed him. Mom, there were other people out at the quarry that night. I know it. No one will admit it around here. But there have to be witnesses.”

“How do you know that?”

“From the old messages that came through when I set up my new phone. I got one that proves there were other people out there that night. I just hadn’t seen it. It came from an unknown sender that said: Home base—Cryer’s Quarry .”

“Okay, good, that’s good. That’s a really strong piece to give the lawyer.”

I pictured Adalyn with Delilah’s phone. That message popping up on the lock screen. Home base—Cryer’s Quarry.

A game like the one we’d played long ago.

Would she have gone? Was that what had drawn her there? A game in the night that she’d been craving ever since she left? Was it a chance to find Bryce?

Finally I saw him. Bryce emerged from the theater last, lurking around the edges of a group.

He was watching her—watching us . Now I could see Charlie Rivers in him. His dark hair swooped to the side. His height. The lanky build, not yet filled out like his father’s had been from manual labor. He was living a different sort of life.

I leaned closer, dropped my voice. “Delilah, I want you to listen to me, but don’t react.”

Her shoulders stiffened on instinct.

“I don’t want you anywhere near Bryce Wharton. I want you in your dorm room tonight with the door locked. Promise me?”

She scrunched her forehead, confused. But she nodded. “Yes, I promise.” Then she took a step back. “Okay, I gotta run. I have a group project. We’re meeting in the library.”

She took off across the quad, but I stayed exactly where I was.

Bryce was standing in the same spot, even though the rest of his group had moved on. He made no attempt to hide that he was staring.

I didn’t move until he turned away to head in the opposite direction.

He was only a kid. I knew that.

But kids, I knew, could do grown-up damage. They could cause just as much pain as we could.