And then my brain began producing these fractured, terrifying thoughts. A siren of warning as Detective Weinberg stepped into the bathroom, out of sight, and I was expected to follow him.
pain fear death darkness nothing nothing the world will end we’ll all be gone nothing matters nothing darkness
That’s the only description I can give of how my thoughts began spiraling. I was standing in the bathroom doorway now, staring at Detective Jenner and Detective Weinberg, who were in front of the stalls, looking back at me, expecting me to step inside.
And for the tiniest, most fleeting second, I thought I saw Sarah, standing in front of the sink, examining the small mark on her neck the way she had been that morning, before the world crumbled around us.
And I ran.
I didn’t even realize I’d started moving until I heard my mother shouting behind me. By then, I was rounding the corner, nearly to the entrance we’d come in through a few minutes before. Even then, I didn’t stop. I shoved open the doors and ran to our car. I grabbed the handle on the passenger door, but it wouldn’t open. I yanked and yanked and cursed, and my face felt so hot and wet. Tears. I wasn’t even sure when I’d started crying. Was it before or after I’d bolted?
“Lee!” Mom called again. She was outside now, too, running up behind me. Her eyes were wide and terrified. “Baby.”
She reached for me, tried to take me into her arms, but I shoved her—actuallyshovedher—away from me. “Get off!” I yelled. “Get off me.”
“Lee,” she whispered, and now she wasn’t just afraid. She was hurt. She took a breath. “Let’s go home.”
I shook my head violently from side to side. “No! No, I just need a minute. I’ll be okay. Iamokay. I just need a second and then I can go back inside and try again. I just freaked out, but I can go back. I can do it. Ihaveto.”
“No, you don’t,” she said. “You don’t have to, and we’re going home.”
“But the walk-through—”
“Forget it,” Mom said. “It’s fine. The detectives will understand. Come on.”
I know I should have argued more. I should have stayed. Should’ve done what I’d come here to do. But when Mom unlocked the car door, I climbed inside. And when another car pulled into the parking lot next to us, I just slid down in my seat, filled with shame and regret.
Detective Jenner’s office hadn’t changed much over the years. Same metal desk strewn with papers. Same photo of his family sitting next to the same outdated computer. The only thing that looked different was Detective Jenner.
His hair was prematurely graying, and there were deep bags under his eyes. He looked as if he’d aged a decade in the span of just three years. Spending so much time investigating a case full of dead teenagers will do that to you, I guess.
“Leanne,” he said as he walked into the office. “And Denny. Must say this is a surprise. Can I help you with something?”
I glanced at Denny. He wasn’t looking at me, of course, but seeing him sitting there was still a comfort. I took a deep breath and turned back to Detective Jenner. “I need to talk to you about the shooting.”
Detective Jenner’s face turned slightly ashy and the lines around his eyes deepened. “All right.” He walked around his desk and sat down in the metal chair. “What’s going on?”
“It’s, um … it’s about Sarah McHale.”
Detective Jenner was silent while I explained, telling him everything I’d told Denny before. It didn’t take long. It wasn’t as if there was much to tell on my end. Just that what everyone seemed to think had happened in the bathroom was wrong. When I finished, he sat back in his seat and ran a hand through his hair.
“Wow,” he said. “Not what I was expecting to hear.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I was going to tell you at the walk-through, but then being there made me panic and the story got bigger after that and I didn’t want to hurt anyone and …” Denny’s hand groped along the armrest until it found mine. He squeezed and I took a breath. “I’m sorry, Detective Jenner.”
“I understand,” he said. “And I appreciate you telling me but … Leanne, the investigation has been closed for a while now. And this information doesn’t really change anything. At least not on my end.”
“Oh.”
“We’d already ruled out any sort of hate crime or religious motivation,” he explained. “The victims were clearly random, regardless of what exchange may or may not have happened with Sarah McHale.”
I nodded. But the pit in my stomach had opened up. I was being honest. Finally. And it didn’t matter at all.
“Can I ask why you’re telling me this now?” His voice was gentle. The disappointment must have been plain on my face.
“I just …” The words got stuck in my throat. I swallowed and tried again. “I just …” But again, I couldn’t get the words out. I couldn’t explain what I had done and why I needed it fixed. Now.
Like always, though, Denny had the words I didn’t.
