Page 64 of Did You See Evie

“Yeah,” I say, grabbing my coffee and walking back into the living room. “I’m heading to work.”

Nadia sits up, her hair a tangled mess. “I’ll head out, too.”

“You don’t have to,” I say. “I mean, if you want to rest?—”

“No, it’s fine. Really. I have some things I need to take care of.”

I lock eyes with Connor, who is still standing in the kitchen. He seems relieved, but I’m annoyed. I hope Nadia didn’t overhear our conversation, isn’t aware of how much my fiancé wanted her to leave. I give Connor a stiff kiss on the cheek. I’m irritated at him, but I can’t express why. Maybe it’s because in the years we’ve been together, I’ve been introduced to countless members of his family, old schoolmates and business partners. I’ve treated each one with respect and avid interest, even when they were so boring I wanted to pull my hair out.

Nadia is the first person from my life—my real life—I’ve ever introduced to him, and he acts as though she’s a liability. Then again, maybe she is. I’ve certainly had my suspicions of her since Evie went missing. Perhaps I’m only growing soft because of what she revealed yesterday about the adoption. It certainly highlighted a compassionate part of her I’d never seen before.

As I pull into the parking lot, I try to shake away thoughts of Nadia and Connor and all of it.

More important matters need to be addressed. And it all starts with the basketball team.

* * *

Usually, team meetings are scheduled in advance. I don’t pull my players out of class unless I have prior permission from their teachers, or I try to have discussions after school hours.

Today, I’m wanting to catch them off guard. I don’t want them to have time to discuss it amongst themselves or reach out to their parents.

I send an email to the school secretary, asking her to call the girls’ basketball team to the gymnasium before lunch. After the announcement is made over the intercom, I wait alone, watching as they arrive one by one, backpacks hanging off shoulders and lunch boxes in their hands.

“Is there news about Evie?” Beth asks immediately.

She’s the only one who seems genuinely curious. The others appear confused, even a little bit annoyed. A meeting like this doesn’t happen often.

“No official updates,” I say, instructing the girls to sit on the first row of bleachers. I wait until they’re settled, all eyes on me, to continue. “Some new information has come to light, though. And I want to discuss it with all of you.”

A pause. Some of the girls look down the line at one another, while others keep their eyes glued to me.

“What is it?” Colleen finally asks, always the first to break the silence.

I cross my arms, narrowing my stare at the girls.

“Another teacher approached me yesterday and told me that some of the girls on this team have been bullying Evie for months.”

It’s almost as though I can feel the oxygen being vacuumed from the room, the air replaced with a suffocating silence. With each passing second, my anger grows.

“Evie wasn’t being bullied,” Tara finally says.

“Coach, you see us, like, every day,” Amber adds. “I think you would know better than anyone.”

“Did Evie ever say that?” Beatrice asks.

“Not to me.” And I’m still bitter over the fact she felt she couldn’t come to me. That telling me the truth about what was going on would somehow make her look weak. Maybe if I’d pushed her a little harder, we could have avoided all this. “This is the first I’ve heard about it. It appears everyone was too worried about the team’s success and all your precious playing time to do what’s right.”

I take a step closer to the girls, lowering my tone.

“I don’t care about any of that,” I say. “If someone had said something earlier, maybe Evie wouldn’t be missing. But they didn’t. Now I need to know the truth. What was going on with the rest of you and Evie?”

More uncomfortable silence. The girls fidget their fingers, their shirts, the straps of their backpacks, all of them literally squirming as they wait for someone else to speak.

“Not everyone was nice to Evie,” Beth says, finally. It doesn’t surprise me she’s the most vocal. Beth and Evie were friends, but it can be intimidating to go against the rest of the team, against the powerful trio of Beatrice, Tara and Amber.

“You’re just saying that because she’s your friend,” Amber says.

“Aren’t all of you her friends?” I ask, struggling to keep my voice level. “Evie is your teammate. None of you were being mean to her when she scored the winning point at the championship game.”

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