Page 12 of Dead Girls Can't Tell Secrets

Instead of meeting Grant at his car to get lunch off campus, I’m pacing the hall outside the cafeteria.

Alex spoke to Piper the day she fell. Twice. And now she wants to disappear.

I’m not going to let her. Something happened that day. Something this person wants to erase. My bet is still on Alexandra, but I have nothing other than a name and a school club to go on. The cops will need more than that, especially now that Piper’s pack with the threat is gone.

“Savannah?”

I look up, irritated someone is interrupting my thoughts. Jessica McKay is standing by a trash can, watching me with concern. She tucks her flat-ironed chestnut hair behind an ear, revealing one of the silver studs I gave her for her last birthday.

“You okay?” She wanders closer, touching my arm delicately. Jessica has been my best friend since second grade, though we haven’t spoken much since Piper’s accident. Our friendship has always been loud parties, quiet gossip, and stolen sips of whiskey from her parents’ cabinet, starting at the tender age of twelve; lately, I haven’t exactly been the poster child for fun times.

“Oh, yeah. I was just going to grab something quick because I have a makeup test for chem.”

“With Mr. Davis?”

I nod, and Jessica’s eyes drift to the cafeteria doors. She makes a face. We haven’t eaten in there since sophomore year.

“Well, it’s good that you’re eating again, at least.”

“Yeah.”Sorry if I lost my appetite when my sister went into a coma.“I’d better move if I’m going to finish my test.”You know, the one that doesn’t exist.“Call you later, ’kay?”

She smiles, pity practically dripping from her lips, and I steal through the cafeteria doors.

Inside, the stale scent wrenches me back to a time when life was a little simpler. Sure, I was still the stupid daughter. Sure, I still had failing grades while my younger sister passed me by. But at least she was here, not in some hospital bed.

My eyes comb the tables until I spot Country Club sitting with all her little sophomore friends, Alexandra included.

I take a breath and meander past her table. I have to talk to Alexandra’s friends. But if she really is Alex—if she sent that text—I can’t let her guess that I’m onto her. She’s already getting rid of evidence. I don’t want to spook her even more.

I get in line, ignoring the group of freshmen boys ogling me. I glance back at Country Club’s table, hoping to catch her on her way out, but she’s munching on an apple like we have all the time in the world.

Unwittingly, I growl, and the girl in front of me whips around. Her eyes grow wide with terror. “You can go ahead of me,” she says in a squeaky voice.

“Oh, no—I’m not in a hurry. Just broke a nail.” I shrug, and the girl smiles in relief.

“I hate that.” Her shoulders relax.

My phone dings in my hand, and I jump, still shaky after that text from Alex.

It’s Grant.Where R U?

Sorry, doing research. Go w/out me

I tuck my phone away in my pocket. It isn’t a lie, exactly. Unfortunately, I can’t confide in Grant about Piper anymore; when I told him about Alex on the way to school, he gave me that look again. That same look of pity Jessica gave me a minute ago.Poor Savannah.

It’s the look the cops will give me if I go there with nothing but a name and a note telling Piper about a club meeting.

I doubt Grant would approve of me spending time investigating a fall he and everyone else believes was a suicide attempt. Not when I should be focusing on my studies, so we can attend MLU together. I don’t want to let him down. He’s always been great, but after Piper’s accident, he really stepped up. He spent countless hours sitting in the cab of his truck with me, gazing out at Vista Point until the sun was long past down and there was nothing left to see. Some days, I couldn’t even speak, but he stayed. Held me. Let me call him in the middle of the night when Mom’s crying woke me up. No one else would do that for me. Not Jessica, who hardly speaks to me now, too worried she’ll say the wrong thing or that my grief will kill her fun. Certainly not my parents, who barely remember that I’m part of the family. That I’m hurting too.

And if I make it known that I’m searching for the truth about September sixteenth, Grant and everyone else will assume I’m just a grief-stricken sister looking for someone to blame.

Which isn’t true.

A sudden burst of panic cracks my thoughts, and I glance back at Alexandra’s table. Did I miss Country Club? But she’s still working on that apple.

Then it hits me: Alexandra’s gone.

I ease out of line, hurrying through the tables and trying not to slip on anyone’s spilled lunch. When I get to Country Club’s table, the apple core is on her tray. She’s checking her makeup with her phone camera, glazing her fingers over her short brown hair. There are still a couple of other girls with her. I slide onto the bench beside her, smiling like I do this all the time.

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