Page 66 of She’s a Doll

“On her phone. No way the police wouldn’t confront her about that.”

Maybe Kyle deleted it from her phone’s logs.

“That would only make the police more suspicious, press her harder. She has to know someone that night answered her phone, someone she trusted to leave it around, someone she was close to.”

What are you getting at? I asked, even though I was pretty damn sure I knew exactly what she was saying.

“Do you think,” she said gently, “there’s a chance that Krissy knows Ky⁠—”

No, I said, jerking my head from side to side, my whole body shaking with rage. No. Krissy wouldn’t protect him. We’ve been friends since we were six. We talked on the phone all the time. Sometimes five times a day. She probably just forgot that we didn’t chat that day. She probably didn’t think twice about it.

“Didn’t think twice? About the last day her best friend was ever seen?”

She wouldn’t lie for Kyle. She wouldn’t. I’m her fri⁠—

“You’re dead, Lu. You’ve been dead for years. Things have changed. People have changed. Everything has changed. Krissy isn’t going to⁠—”

You didn’t even give her a chance! You just put me in the dark! Don’t ever put me in the dark!

Nicola tossed the empty backpack aside, rubbed her face, and sat down on the bed beside me. “I . . . I’m sorry, Lu. I’m sorry. I couldn’t stay there. I⁠—”

You could’ve given Krissy your⁠—

“No,” she said, quietly this time. “No. That wouldn’t work. You can’t just hand someone a hearing aid. That’s weird. And even if it wasn’t, she hates me. She’s hated me ever since . . . ever since what happened with Kyle happened.” She raked her hand through her hair, making her mullet stand in a spiky dark crown. “She’s his sister. His sister.”

She’s my friend, I said one more time.

Nicola flopped back on the bed and closed her eyes. “Yeah,” she said. “I know she was.”

Was.

That word smashed around in my head like a panicked bird inside a cage, violent, desperate, and sad. I hated it. I hated her for saying it. I hated her so much that, for a brief terrible moment, I wanted to hurt her, to scream at her, punch her, kick her, and stab her with my stick arm over and over and over again until she was just like me.

Dead. I wanted her dead.

Except I didn’t really want that. I hated myself for even thinking it. Nicola was the only person I had in the entire world. The one who could hear me . . . but she wasn’t listening. She didn’t understand.

Krissy was my friend. She’d been my friend since we were round-cheeked, knobbly-kneed, and gap-toothed. She’d braided my hair, salted leeches off my legs, and lied to keep me out of trouble, and I’d done all of those things for her too, a hundred times over.

We were friends.

We were the sort of friends that weren’t always kind or careful with each other. We were raw, unfiltered, sometimes even mean. All the worst fights I’d ever had I’d had with Krissy. But despite it, we always wound up back at each other’s sides. No matter what, we’d always come back together with an “I’m sorry,” an “I love you,” and a “Wanna get donuts?”

That had to mean something. It had to.

I’d told Nicola I didn’t feel pain, but that was a lie. I hurt. I hurt all over. My head pulsed, my eyes ached, and my porcelain felt like it was on fire. I wanted to cry. I needed to cry. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t do anything.

Nothing but get shoved aside the second I was in the way.

Nicola was supposed to be on my side, but she’d stuffed me into her backpack and waited until she was all the way back home before letting me out.

I’d agreed to Plan B. I was following her stupid fucking rules. I thought it was a compromise, an agreement, a fair partnership . . . but she hadn’t even tried to talk to Krissy.

She hadn’t even tried.

I sat up, my insides clenched into an angry lump, my whole body shaking.

Out the window, dogs were barking. One of them sounded almost like Cookie, barks long, loud, and low.