This video review felt like overkill now that the cop was gone and her nerves were quiet. The road that led to the business park and storage facility was nearly a mile long and connected to a state highway. Whatever his worries were, these loiterers had nothing to do with her.
First things first, she pulled up the front gate footage from 8:00 p.m. and watched her own ghostly figure approach the closed gate. Headlights swept across the background of the shot, though a car never pulled into view. Instead, a small, hunched figure scurried toward Lily before Lily led her off camera. She highlighted the footage and immediately deleted it.
Done. That moment no longer existed for anyone except her and Amber.
It took nearly an hour to carefully scan the other camera feeds, but absolutely nothing popped up aside from a possum that waddled past with a few babies on its back. Lily allowed herself a faint smile as she made a note of the timestamp to show to Everett.
Her son had morphed from a cuddly little boy to an awkward, slightly standoffish tween, but she could still suck him in with cute animal content, and she’d mercilessly use any tactic to keep him close.
They were close, weren’t they? Despite everything?
Lily slumped back in her chair and rubbed a hand over her eyes. On good days she thought she was doing okay, raising a fatherless son the best she could. On bad days when one or both of them were in a foul mood, and she felt like she was failing him . . . Well, on bad days she turned on music and cried quietly in her bedroom while he played video games online.
There was no reason for this to be a bad day. She’d throw some frozen cookie dough in the oven as a warm welcome after his nearly mile-long walk from the bus stop, and she wouldn’t even be resentful if he forgot to compliment her baking.
And once she handed off her special delivery, she’d lie low, stop taking risks, and everything would get back to normal.
CHAPTER 2
“Is it true you live in a storage unit?”
Everett stiffened at the girl’s voice behind him, raised high to be heard over the rumble of the school bus as it pulled away and abandoned them on the desolate corner.
He felt his shoulders climb toward his ears with tension, but he didn’t turn around. He’d gotten through all of elementary school and most of his first year of middle school without being bullied, but this was it. After all those years of warnings and role-play at school, it was about to happen in real life.
When he took two steps away, he heard the rasp of her footsteps follow. “Hey! You’re Everett, right?”
Pausing, he turned his head slightly toward her, limbs tight and poised to react. “Yeah.”
“Do you really live in a storage unit?”
“Jesus,” he muttered before resuming his walk. Her footsteps shuffled behind him.
“Hey,” she said, “I’m not trying to be rude. I’m sorry. That came out wrong. I mean, it’s sad if you do live in a storage place, but I hope that’s not true. I just can’t figure out . . .” Her words trailed off, and though he kept walking, she quickly overtook him. “You live out there, right? And there aren’t any houses!”
Everett glanced at her past the corner of his eye. Josephine Woodbridge. A Black girl about his size, with a pretty, round face. She wore purple clothes a lot.
They’d never been in the same elementary classroom, but he thought she’d moved to Herriman about two years earlier. She usually got off the bus with a girl named Bea, but Bea didn’t ride the bus during soccer season, and he hadn’t seen her in a while. Both girls lived in the tiny strip of houses that ran along the highway a few feet from the bus stop. Everett was the only kid who lived in the business park way down the road.
The perfect poof of Josephine’s natural hair bobbed with every step. She watched him intently, seemingly paying no attention to the road. “Where’s Bea?” he asked.
“She moved.”
Bea had seemed a little snooty to him, so he wasn’t exactly sorry, but that explained how he’d suddenly drawn Josephine’s attention.
“Her dad got a job in Missouri. State government or something. She’s so mad.”
“I bet.”
“I have Mr. Rose’s class right after you,” she said, changing the subject.
“Yeah.”
“That last quiz was ridiculous.”
“Yeah,” he answered.
“I can’t keep walking this way or I’ll get home late, and my mom will lose her mind.”
He stopped without even deciding to, and she immediately took the opportunity to move into his path and offer a big smile. “So you don’t live in a storage unit? I only asked because when I see you walking home, it makes me worry, and I hate worrying. Like, hate it.”