“I wish I were blind,” Zach said, and for the first time, he sounded like a man. Certain. “I don’t want to go home and see Mia’s room. Or her picture.”
Just then, Officer Avery walked into the room. He was holding a crumpled-up paper bag in his hands, worrying the rolled crease with his blunt-tipped fingers. “Dr. Farraday? Jude?” he said, clearing his throat. “I’m so sorry to bother you at this difficult time.” He cleared his throat again. “But I need to ask Zach some questions.”
“Of course,” Miles asked, stepping closer to the bed. “Zach? Can you answer a few questions?”
“Whatever,” Zach said.
The officer cleared his throat and then stepped awkwardly toward Jude, offering her the paper bag. “Here,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
She felt as if she were underwater, reaching for something that looked close but was really far away. She was faintly surprised when she felt the rough brown paper. Opening it, she saw a blur of quilted pink—Mia’s purse—and she closed the bag quickly, clutching it in shaking hands.
The policeman stepped back a respectful distance, opened a small notebook. “You are Zachary Farraday?”
“You know I am. You were Officer Friendly in fourth grade.”
Officer Avery smiled briefly at that. “And it was your white Mustang that was totaled on Night Road last night?”
“It was my car.”
“And you attended a party at the Kastner house on Saturday night, with your sister and Alexa Baill?”
“And about a hundred other people.”
“And you were drinking alcohol,” the officer said, consulting a piece of paper. “I have test reports here that show your blood alcohol level at point twenty-eight,” the officer said. “That’s almost four times the legal limit.”
“Yeah,” Zach said quietly.
I won’t drink and drive, Madre … you know you can trust me? How many times had Jude heard him make that promise?
She closed her eyes, as if darkness offered any refuge from this.
The officer flipped a page. “Do you remember leaving the party?”
“Yeah. It was about two o’clock. Mia was having a cow about us being late.”
“So you all decided to get in the car and drive,” the officer said. The words were like a battering ram. Jude felt each one hit her spine and reverberate up.
“Lexi wanted to call home,” Zach said quietly. “I told her not to be stupid. We did that once and Mom flipped out. I didn’t want to miss another party.”
“Oh, Zach,” Miles said, shaking his head.
Jude thought she might be sick again.
She’d forgotten all about that other time, when they’d believed her words and called her for help. And what had she done—made them pay for it by forcing them to skip several events that weekend.
Oh, God.
“You were fine until you came to Night Road,” Officer Avery went on.
“There was no one on the road. Mia was … Mia was in the backseat, singing along to the radio. That Kelly Clarkson song. I told her to shut up, and she hit me in the back of the head and then…” Zach drew in a deep breath. “We weren’t even going that fast, but it was dark and the turn just came up, you know? That hairpin just past the Smithsons’ mailbox. Like out of nowhere. I heard Mia scream, and I yelled at Lexi to hit the brakes and tried to grab the wheel … and then…”
Jude’s head snapped up. “You told Lexi to hit the brakes?”
“She was driving,” Zach said. “She didn’t want to. I was supposed to. I was the designated driver. It’s my fault.”
“Ms. Baill’s blood alcohol level was point zero nine. The legal limit is point zero eight. Of course, she’s under twenty-one, so she can’t legally drink at all,” the officer said.
Lexi was driving, not Zach.
Zach hadn’t killed his sister.
Lexi had.
*
“I need to see Zach.”
“Oh, Lexi,” her aunt said, her face slackening with sorrow. “Surely—”
“I need to see him, Aunt Eva.”
Her aunt started to say no, but Lexi wouldn’t listen. Before she knew it, she was crying and pushing past her aunt, limping down the hall.
She saw him through the open door at the end of the hallway.
He was alone in his room.
“Zach,” she said at the doorway, moving toward him.
“She’s gone,” he said, barely moving his lips.