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“Ophelia, are you okay?”
“I’ve been trying to reach Detective Williams,” I tell him in between my short, labored breaths. “He told Theo that I ratted him out. And now my whole family knows and…What happened? I thought we could trust him?”
“About that,” he clears his throat. “He asked me…well…he doesn’t want you or Emmett to contact him anymore.”
“What?” I cry. “Why?”
“Your lead on Theo went nowhere because it turns out he was an inside guy for the FBI the whole time,” he explains. “I don’t know how Theo found out. But between that and Emmett’s false alarm on his mother and sister’s kidnappings…he’d prefer you go through regular police channels from now on.”
“But those things weren’t our fault!” I sob harder. “And the police here are all corrupt! If we don’t have at least one person to turn to, what are we supposed to do?”
“Just stay focused on choosing which college you want to go to,” he urges. “Keep your chin up, Lopez. You’ll be out of here soon enough.”
“Thanks,” I murmur half-heartedly before hanging up. Sure, I’ll b
e out soon enough. But the rest of them won’t be.
As has become my habit for when I am alone in my room, upset with nothing else to do, I pick up Marissa’s diary. But my eyes are still watering, making it hard to read too much.
The more time I spend with Thomas, the more I see a side of him that no one else does. Not the sweet, charming guy that everyone loves. But a dark side. Something I’ve only seen glimpses of, but he has moments of being so heartless and selfish. I tried to talk to my mother about it, but she says all men can be that way and that I’d be a fool not to want to be Mrs. Jameson. So, more and more I am learning to stay out his affairs and keep to myself. And sometimes, I still feel like the luckiest girl in the world, but…
I can’t read anymore. I throw the book to the ground with a big thud, wondering what is different between Emmett and Thomas. Did I save Emmett in a way Marissa couldn’t save Thomas? Or have I just been fooled? There has to be some reason he’s so willing to choose Theo over me.
There’s a knock at the door, making me jump as I quickly kick the diary back under my bed. “Go away!” I shout out. “I want to be alone.”
“It’s me,” Emmett calls out from behind the door.
“Go away, please!” I try again.
But the latch turns and the door opens anyway. Of course, I forgot to lock it. Just my luck. I hear him come in, but he says nothing.
“What do you want!?” I moan, but as I turn around, I notice the pale ghostly look on his face. “Wha…what’s wrong?”
“It’s Malcolm,” he says in shock. “He’s dead.”
22
Chapter Twenty-Two
I stare down the black velvet dress crumpled up in the corner of my room. It’s been laying there since the night Emmett attempted to flash all of his newly earned money at me, not realizing I’d inevitably find out where it came from. Now I have to consider putting it on for Malcolm Henderson’s funeral, but something about it makes me feel sick.
“I’m not going,” Emmett announces from the other corner of my room.
“I didn’t think you would,” I answer listlessly as I try to remember if I even own another black dress.
He can’t face Liam, Bernadette, and his mom all while pretending to care that Malcolm is dead. He hates him even more than I do. Which is sad since they were childhood friends. Emmett should be able to say goodbye to that part of him at least, even if its been dead for a while now.
“Why are you going?” he adds.
“For Bridgett,” I sigh. We’ve had this discussion twenty times already.
“But she can’t even talk to you while you’re there,” he argues. “No one’s supposed to know you two are friends, remember?”
“Does any of that even matter now that Malcolm is dead?” I wonder out loud as I dig through my closet.
“Another one always pops up in the old one’s place,” he grumbles.
The funny this is…Malcolm is the one who popped up in Emmett’s place.
