Page 26 of Did You See Evie

As I stare at the screen, my eyes wander, landing on the computer on the secretary’s desk. Not only does that computer house all the information about home addresses and phone numbers and class schedules, it’s also where the school security video is transmitted to. A brief, selfish thought enters my mind. If Evie doesn’t return soon, the school will continue to investigate. The police could get involved. Will they be able to see me wandering through the school?

With Evie missing, that should be the last thought on my mind, and yet, I’m prone to consider self-preservation. It was a way of life growing up. In recent years, my life has felt so pampered. I’m not used to thinking about having to protect myself. Then again, I’ve not made a mistake this big in a long time, and if it somehow connects to what happened with Evie…

For only a moment, I consider turning on the computer and opening the camera footage files. Our School Resource Officer showed me how to access them once, when we were investigating an incident. I could erase the feed from earlier in the night that shows me walking around the building when I should have been in the gym. But if I did that, would it potentially erase evidence that could help us find Evie? We might be able to find out exactly what happened by watching these videos but that takes time, something I don’t have right now.

My throat feels like it’s closing in on itself, my mental anguish beginning to manifest throughout my body. I look around, my eyes resting on the bluish glow coming from the mini refrigerator across the room. I march over there and pull open the door, relieved at the sight of an ice-cold water. I take several gulps, trying to calm myself, before placing it on the secretary’s desk and grabbing the intercom again.

“Evie, you won’t be in trouble,” I say. This time, my voice is much calmer. “We’re worried about you. We only want to make sure you’re okay. If you can hear me, if you’re anywhere inside the school, for any reason, please just come back to the gym.”

As I’m lowering the microphone, I feel something brush against my arm. I jump back immediately, scared by the possibility I’m no longer alone in this dark room. Someone is standing beside me.

When I turn, I see it’s only Joanna, but my reaction startled her. As she steps back, her elbow hits my open water bottle, liquid pouring all over the secretary’s computer.

“Shit!” I say, holding out my hands out of instinct, but it’s pointless. Water is already pooling between the gaps in the keyboard, trailing down the monitor resting on the ground.

“I didn’t mean to—” Joanna doesn’t finish her sentence. She’s already headed down the corridor to the employee restroom. When she returns, she has a wad of paper towels in her hands. “Do you think it’s okay?”

“I’m not sure,” I say, dabbing the device, trying to soak up as much liquid as possible.

That selfish thought returns. Maybe Joanna did me a favor. Her snafu with the water bottle may corrupt the video evidence of me opening that door.

Then the full picture sinks in. What if it erases much more than that? What if it erases something that tells us what happened to Evie?

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” she says. She’s breathing heavily, her hands clammy when my own brush against them.

“What are you doing here anyway? I thought I told you to stay with the girls.”

“Mr. Lake arrived. He told me to come find you.”

I sigh in frustration. “I’m guessing Evie didn’t return to the gymnasium.”

She shakes her head, her eyes turning to the ruined computer. “And he’s not alone.”

“What do you mean?” When we talked, he’d specifically told me not to involve the police. Not yet, anyway.

“He brought Coach Reynolds with him.”

I clump the remaining paper towels in my hands into a ball and drop it on the desk.

“That’s just great,” I say, as I stomp in the direction of the gym.

FOURTEEN

Back in the gymnasium, the remaining teammates are no longer in the center of the basketball court. They’re sitting on the front row of the bleachers, their belongings packed up and at their sides.

Mr. Lake and Coach Reynolds stand in front of them. Both of them have their arms crossed, and they’re deep in conversation when I walk up.

“I didn’t know you were bringing reinforcements,” I say to Mr. Lake, purposely avoiding Reynolds.

“I thought the more hands on deck, the better,” he says.

“I only live a few blocks away,” Reynolds says. “It was no trouble.”

I’m sure it wasn’t. He’s probably reveling in the possibility that I’ve messed up. He’s always ready to glorify my every mistake, and this is a big one.

“I heard you on the intercom,” Mr. Lake says. “She still hasn’t come out?”

“No. And all of the girls swear they haven’t seen her since we went to bed.”

---