Page 34 of Diem

“Nothing,” I whisper and Mom snorts, dropping her fork to her plate. I flinch at the resulting clang but ignore her, contemplating my options.

“Nunnie,” Dad says, and I glance at him sideways.

I want so badly to confide in him, but I don’t know who he really is and that scares the shit out of me. Still, I need to know if I’m eating dinner with a stone-cold killer.

“I miss Dixie,” I say softly.

“Oh Maeve,” Dad says, touching my hand.

Mom has the good grace to flush while Dad pulls me into a side hug and I bite back the tears clogging my throat. I’m ashamed to say, this is less about Dixie’s death and mostly due to my fears which is why I buckle down and force myself to focus.

“Dad?” I whisper, clenching my hand in my lap. Absently, I note my legs are trembling as I try to swallow past the lump in my throat.

“Hm?” he rumbles.

I haven’t had much time to consider how to interrogate him, but the words drop from my lips of their own volition. “The last time we hung out, Dixie was upset about a boy. Do you think I should tell someone?”

“Oh?” he says, straightening in his seat.

Nodding, I wipe away a tear because I may be lying about the circumstances, but I’m still devastated. “Yeah, she was real torn up, you know? And I kinda brushed her off.”

“Hm. Well, I think maybe if you think it’s important, you should tell someone.”

Shrugging, I wipe my mouth and glance at him through my lashes. Is he a world class liar? Or am I being paranoid?

“Okay,” I say, and he kisses my forehead.

“Now, dishes and then homework,” he says pointing at my plate.

Grumbling, I push back my chair but as soon as I’m in the kitchen, I pull up social media.

After hours of searching Dixie’s profiles, I’m no closer to finding Kenny. At least not one that isn’t sleeping two doors down from me. Further, I know more about the Lucky Charm killer than I ever wanted to and now, visions of Dixie in death, haunting my dreams.

Chapter Eight

Maeve

After school, the following day, I meet up with Penny who’s been suspiciously quiet since our text exchange.

I’ve been slowly going insane since she mentioned Kenny and I spied on my dad with a student. Now I need to know more before I lose my mind altogether.

She’s already waiting when I arrive, and I sit down opposite her with a wan smile. She looks terrible which I guess isn’t a surprise but damn, is she eating?

“Hey,” she says, dropping her phone to the table.

Truthfully, I was going to tell her she needs to stop this now before someone gets hurt but I suspect it’ll fall on deaf ears, and I’ll be leaving her to her own demise.

Which she confirms when the first thing she asks is, “Have you heard anything more about this Kenny guy?”

Swallowing I avoid her gaze while I lie about my father. But it’s not a lie if I have no confirmation, right?

“I thought maybe some guy named Kenny Rappaport but—“

“No,” she says, and I pause. ”It’s not him.”

“How do you know?” I ask a pit forming in my stomach.

“Because Kenny graduated last year. This guy was older.”

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