Page 136 of Diem

I know I should go to the police. But I’m scared. What will happen to my dad? What will happen to my life?

But what about Dixie?

Doesn’t she deserve peace?

With my soul in tatters, I curl into a ball and cry myself to sleep.

Chapter Thirty

Maeve

By the morning, my parents have moved into some weird state of denial. Ollie never came home and now they’re circling the table like nothing happened.

“Mae?” Dad says and I jump before turning to him. “Darlin’ did you study for your finals?”

Incredulous, I can only stare until he says, “It’ll be okay. People like that don’t come back. They’re looking for jewelry or valuables.”

Yeah, except he doesn’t know about the shit Penny, and I have gotten into. I hope.

“Shouldn’t we call the police?” I ask and he sits back, eyeing me with a frown.

Mom sets a plate on the table and says with false cheer, “No need. Nothing was taken.”

Now, I know something is up because Mom is not cheerful. Gah.

“Do you want to ride to school with me, pumpkin?” Dad asks.

Shaking my head, I set my napkin on the table carefully and grab my bag. “See you later.”

At school, I sit through my classes in a daze. When I see Penny in the hall, I duck into the bathroom and only when Hailey appears do I remember her request.

Without speaking, I give her the bag of hair and hide in the stall.

She exits to my relief, and I proceed to sit on the floor for hours. When the final bell rings, I check my watch and wait an additional thirty minutes before exiting.

It’s quiet as I had hoped and I trudge through the lot, glancing around warily. If whoever that was is willing to come to my home, I can’t put it past them to come to the school.

When I get home, Mom is sitting in the chair by the window. I go to blow past her but her softly spoken demand stops me in my tracks. “Sit.”

Warily, I perch on the chair opposite her. She raises red rimmed eyes to mine and says, “Here’s the thing, Maeve. Your dad is a bad man.”

Clenching my hands in my lap, I hold achingly still. I’m afraid to move for fear she’ll stop talking just as I’m equally afraid that she won’t.

“I don't know the particulars and I don’t want to. Maeve, whatever it is, it doesn’t involve us.”

Splaying my hands, I whisper, “She was my best friend.”

Mom sighs and looks out the window. “She may have been, but she’s gone now, and we have to think about us.”

“Us?”

“Yes, Maeve. Us. We must be careful. Do you understand?”

Her level look sends a chill down my spine. Slowly I nod although I don’t understand, I want to scream.

“Give it back,” she says and stands. It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask what but I suspect I already know.

What does she think will happen to me if I don’t?

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