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“Five years.”
“You work?”
Michael nodded. “My dad had a landscaping company.” “How nice. I love gardening.”
Becca recognized this voice. It was her mom’s let-me-distract-you tone. But maybe her mother sensed Michael’s mood, because she glanced up. “I’m sure your brothers will turn up. Boys do tend to get into a lot of scrapes. We had a couple teenagers from that dance in the ER last night, but no car accidents, no John Does, even.”
Becca perked up. “Who came in?” she asked, though she had a pretty good idea.
“You know I can’t tell you that. No one by the name of Merrick.” Her mom moved to the sink to wet a paper towel. “Looked like a drug overdose, anyway. They were in bad shape.” She came back to the table and started to blot at the cut over Michael’s eye. He winced.
“Eat,” she said. “You’ll hurt my feelings.”
He picked up his fork and cut a piece of pancake. “Smiley faces?” he said, spearing some with his fork.
“Mom gets into her cooking,” said Becca.
Michael must have liked the pancakes. He cut another piece. “I forgot what that was like.”
“Cooking?” she said.
He didn’t look up. “Having a mother.”
His words hung in the silence for a moment. He was such a jerk that Becca had never considered what it must be like to be Michael, to graduate from high school and instead of heading off to college, have to stay home, take over his father’s business, and finish raising his three brothers.
“Did you go back to the school?” her mother said. “See if their car is still there?”
“It is.” He glanced at Becca. “When did you last see Chris?”
“Late,” she said. “But he was on the soccer field.” She gave a meaningful glance at her mother.
If Michael saw it, he didn’t acknowledge it. “I’ll go back. Look around.”
“I’ll come with you,” said Becca.
Michael jerked his head up in surprise—then his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Why?”
“Because I care,” she snapped.
“It’s not a bad idea,” her mom said. “Bex could show you where she saw them last. You’ll probably find them sleeping off a hangover under the bleachers.”
“Probably,” echoed Becca. “Let me go get dressed.”
She felt Michael watching her, but she couldn’t look back. She remembered those bolts of lightning on the field, the way the power had flared in the air and brushed against her skin. She remembered the smell of fear and rain and scorched earth.
If they found anyone on the field, they definitely wouldn’t be hungover.
They’d be dead.
CHAPTER 35
Becca pulled on jeans, a tee shirt, and a long-sleeved hoodie to combat the chill in the air. She worried about how the drive would go, considering her history with Michael. Once they were on the road, she realized she shouldn’t have bothered.
He didn’t say a word.
Halfway to school, she couldn’t take it anymore. She’d rather listen to him snipe at her than suffer this silence she could only fill with worry.
“How did you know where I live?” she asked.
