Page 93 of This I Know
I move toward her, taking a step in the grass to close the ground between us. She’s done a good job of keeping her distance to make another getaway, I’ll give her that. She’s smart. But no matter how sly she thinks she is, this is the end for her. I’m going to get her back to the police; I’ll drag her, if I have to.
I soften my voice. “Come back with me. This is the best way. I’ll tell them you cooperated and they might give you a lighter sentence. Community service or something.”
She sniffles. “No.”
“Come on, Julia. You don’t need this in your life. All this crap Cole has dragged you into. I know it was him and I’ll tell them it was him. I’m on your side. Okay?” This time, I’m the liar. There’s only one side I’m on, and it’s definitely not hers.
For every step I take, she takes one step back. She’s not going to come quietly.Dammit, Julia. I should have known better than to ever release you.
I’m going to have to do this fast, and I can’t mess up. She’s watching me, reading me, about to bolt. Watching her eyes move back and forth, I know exactly what she’s thinking – she’s working out her plan of escape.
As I’m about to make my move, a light flicks on from the closest house. It lights up the back yard, and in that instant, both of us are washed in a glow.
I freeze. I don’t want to bethiscaught up in this mess.
A figure walks past the drawn, floor-level curtain. They’re approaching the glass back door.
Julia doesn’t waste the moment. She’s gone, sprinting toward the next still-dark house faster than I can react.
“Shit,” I say under my breath. I throw the cap toward her in anger, and then I run, too, but not out of fear. I need to catch her. The grass is wet with dew and I can’t believe she’s actually outrunning me. She’s not slipping or hesitating or making a single mistake; she’s good at this.
And she’s gone.
This time, for good.
Once again, I come to a stop in the middle of the street. She’s disappeared. I place my hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath.
She’s fast.
And now that she’s gone, I’ve got to get back to Avery. I make my way through the homes, feeling defeat.
“Ethan,” Avery cries when she sees me. She falls into my arms. I clutch the soft fabric of her pajama top and cup her head against the crook of my arm. Her warm breath hits my sleeveless skin.
The fire trucks are here now, accompanied by a few police cars and an ambulance. The fire is out.
She looks up at me. “Where did you go?”
“There was something I had to take care of.” I touch her cheek. “I thought I saw someone, and I was right. I almost caught the person who did this.”
Avery’s mother pulls away from the officer she’s talking to and approaches us.
“Ethan,” she says, holding her elbows. “I’m not going to ask any questions, but I need to thank you. Avery,” she turns away from me to her daughter, “I’m making arrangements for us to stay somewhere else for tonight.” She sighs, holding up a strange cell phone, one that I assume was given to her by the police. Hers must be lost in the fire. “And probably for several nights after.”
“Mom,” Avery says.
The sweetness in her voice rings through my ears, calming even me.
“It’ll be okay, Avery.” Her mom goes to Avery and hugs her. “Wherever we have to go, it’ll be okay.”
“Mom.” Avery pulls back. “Someone did this, and Ethan knows who it was.”
Avery’s mom gasps. “What? Don’t be ridiculous.” She turns to me. “Ethan?”
“It’s true.”
Avery’s mom doesn’t speak. She stands next to her daughter in silence.
“I’ll tell the police everything I know.”
