But then she cries, “It’s Kennedy.” My mind stalls for an instant until she inhales a deep, quaking breath to add, “I think she’sdead.”
I’m hit with an acute sense of disorientation, a fog rolling into my brain. “What?” I finally ask. Kennedy Russo can’t be dead. I saw her in the cafeteria an hour ago. But I regain enough wherewithal to ask, “Did someone call 911?”
I feel Penelope’s chin bump my shoulder as she nods. “You know the ambulance will take forever though.”
“What about the school nurse?” I ask.
“Someone already went to get her,” Penelope says, sniffling.
Slowly, I manage to pull away from her. My hair rustles as someone barrels past us, and I glance up to see a figure in a black T-shirt shove into the crowd.Bram.Right behind him is the school nurse. She makes it through, gasping audibly, then orders everyone to back away.
They obey, the wall they formed cracking and breaking apart, allowing me to glimpse what’s behind it.
My feet refuse to step closer, but I see anyway. Red hair spilling over the pine needles, pink cashmere sweater splayed open and matted with dirt.
The tears start to come now, mottling the scene. I feel an arm wrap around my shoulders, a strong grip turning me away from the crowd, away from the nurse, who’s growing more and more frantic as she works on the unmoving body.
The boy’s touch is cold. I look up into his face, expecting to find Henry. Instead, it’s Bram holding me. “We should go,” he says, walking me out of the woods.
“We should?” I ask, so grateful he’s alive that I don’t try to slip free of his grasp. Instead, I lean into him more.
“The cops are already on their way over. I can’t be here.”
My head pulls back. “But you didn’t do anything wrong.”
“No, I know that.” He glances over my shoulder, back at thewoods and the crying students. “It’s just…”
“And you went and got the nurse,” I manage to get out.
“Because no one else was doing anything. They were just staring.”
“Bram, what happened?” I ask, not sure I’m ready to find out.
“I don’t know.” His gray eyes are wide as he shakes his head. “I didn’t look closely. It could’ve been an accident. Maybe she fell and hit her head or something? But…there was a lot of blood.”
“What were you doing back here?” I ask.
He releases me now, putting his hands in his pockets and clearing his throat. “I was slow getting back after the drill, that’s all.”
He looks genuinely hurt by my questions. Without thinking, I reach out to touch his bare arm. But his attention isn’t on my eyes anymore; it’s on something behind me.
I crane my neck to see Henry standing on the path behind the school. My hand drops from Bram’s arm, and I rush to him.
“What’s going on?” he asks, peering into the woods.
“It’s Kennedy. She’s—the nurse is working on her.”
“Kennedy?” Henry’s skin pales. “What happened? Do you think she’s okay?”
“Not really,” Bram says, making his way to us.
“Well, did someone call her dad?” Kennedy’s father, Dr. Arnold Russo, is a general surgeon out at Central Springs Hospital, but he also has a practice here in town.
“Yeah, I think so,” Bram says, motioning us along. “But we need to get out of here.” He scans the grounds. “Where’s Adam?”
“Still in the car, I assume,” Henry says, craning his neck to glance back at the woods.
We head around the building, reaching the front just as Dr. Russo’s Mercedes screeches into the lot. He gets out, slamming the door and dropping his keys in the rush.
