Page 25 of Dead Girls Can't Tell Secrets

“Tell her you changed your mind.”

“Why would I do that?”

My face heats. “Because if you don’t, I’ll have to share with Jacey,” I snap.

Abby takes a timid step back.

I press my hands together like I’m praying. There’s got to be a way to change her mind. “You don’t understand. We have a history.”

Abby’s forehead scrunches. “It’s not exactly a secret, Savannah. You stole her boyfriend.”

My neck jerks. “Excuse me?”

“The photo in theGrayling High Gazette.” She must see the vein popping in my forehead, because her voice lowers and her face reddens, washing out her freckles. “I would think you’d want to be nice to Jacey after what you did.” She makes a motherly face of disapproval. “Maybe sharing a tent would be good for you.”

This doesn’t happen often, but I’m speechless. I can’t correct her, because she’s not wrong. Still, the nerve of this flannel-covered frontierswoman, when I was trying to be nice to her. I glance helplessly at the pine trees surrounding us. At the crow squawking irritatingly, high overhead. Here in the wilderness, my social standing is about as useful as it is in the Sullivan home.

“I’m really sorry about Piper,” Abby continues. “I am. But you and your sister…” Her lips twist in something like disgust.

“I wasn’t aware you had such strong feelings concerningme and my sister.”

Abby shrugs. “You don’t seem aware of much.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re sort of in your own world. That’s why you didn’t know Piper was—” She shakes her head. “Forget it.” She reaches out to touch my arm, but I step back. “My thoughts are with your sister.”

“What didn’t I know about Piper?” She’s not changing the subject.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters if you threatened her.”

Abby’s eyes narrow. “Threatenedher?” That stupid smile reappears on her face, but it contorts unnervingly, sending a chill up my spine. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Savannah.”

Abby pivots and plods away, leaves crunching beneath her massive boots. Once she disappears into the trees, I flop down onto the ant stump, my legs sore from the hike, hands sore from how tightly they’ve been balled up.

I touch the cold silver of my necklace, pressing the charm between two fingers. Out in the middle of this forest with the wind whipping against my face, I feel exposed. Bare. I wish my bed weren’t a billion miles away so I could crawl under the covers.

But the thought of my bed only conjures a memory from the day Piper fell. Raised voices. The flutter of paper. Words I can never take back.

Now, the wind sings through the trees. A woodpecker knocks, and my heart echoes the sound as it pounds in my chest.

“You didn’t find her?” Grant’s voice arrives before he appears through the pine boughs.

I wipe away the welling tears. “I did.” I sniffle and attempt to stand.

Grant whistles in a breath and motions toward the phone in my back pocket. “Did they call about—?”

“No, nothing like that,” I assure him. “I don’t even have reception. I was thinking about her, that’s all.”

“Oh.” He nods dumbly, and I can’t exactly blame him; I don’t get weepy often. Even when I found out about Piper, I didn’t cry. He extends his arm, and I clutch it, leaning against him as we walk back to camp.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to take you back down?” His head tilts forward, a dark curl tumbling over his forehead as his eyes search mine.

“It’s going to be dark soon. I can survive a couple more days with these creeps.” Hopefully. “What did Lumberjack say?”

“He’s cool. Abby?”

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