Page 34 of Thicker Than Water
“Can’tyou?” Maeve retorts.
Sienna grunts and spins away to pace through the narrow gaps in the boneyard.
“Jules,” she says, “help me out here, tell her she needs to do this.”
My lips stick together like Velcro. I don’t dare tell Sienna what I really think—turning in the evidence is not Maeve’s responsibility, and more important, it might only hurt Jason’s case in the end—but I don’t know what to say instead. I’m used to opting for silence, but Sienna’s staring me down, her eyes like sirens blaring her need.
My phone rings then, barreling through my quiet. I fumble for it in my pocket, expecting to see it’s the hospital or even police calling—but the number on my screen is the one that, before this week, I dreaded most, believing its appearance in the middle of the day would signal some unbearable tragedy, or at the very least some trouble.
I look at Sienna, whose face is already mirroring the concern I feel.
“Hello?” I say into the phone.
“Hi, Mrs. Larkin?”
“Yes.”
“This is Mona Pickett, assistant principal at Willow Creek High. We need you to come here as soon as you can. There’s been an incident with your son.”
Chapter TenSIENNA
Julia keeps her hand on Aiden’s back as she guides him into Jason’s room. My nephew’s steps are so reluctant, he looks like a prisoner, cuffed at the ankles, led by a guard.
He hasn’t explained The Incident yet, not beyond what the assistant principal told us. According to Mona Pickett, Aiden shouted at another student in the hallway, loud enough to lure two teachers from their classrooms, then shoved the kid into the lockers. Julia and I stared at the woman in shock, certain she must have mixed Aiden up with another student; he’s simply not a violent kid. Once, during Movie Night, there was a spider in the living room, which Aiden caught in a gentle, welcoming palm before bringing it out to the yard, while I was still standing on the couch screeching at him to kill it. He quit karate after two classes because even kicking the instructor’s foam shield felt “too brutal” to him. But today, as he sulked in Pickett’s office, he told us, “I don’t want to talk about it,” confirming that there was, in fact, something to talk about.
On the way to the hospital, Julia tried only once to pry it out of him, and instead of answering her, he asked, “Can’t you just take me home?” His voice was snarly and impatient, and I waited for Julia to call him out on it, to insist he explain why the hell he’d hurt another student, but instead, she sealed up her lips, like a letter she was too afraid to send, and stared out the passenger window. In my head, I rushed through my usual count—one, two, three—before informing Aiden we’d discuss it after he saw his father.
Now he stands beside Jason’s bed, still as a mannequin. He glares at his dad like he’s furious with him, and I don’t understand it, not the scowl puckering his mouth, not the tightness of his body or the dip of his brow. I get that Aiden’s a teenager, mad at the world, mad at this shitty situation. But why does he seem mad atJason? His eyes could drill holes in his dad’s face.
“Okay, fess up,” I say—since Julia clearly isn’t going to. “Why’d you attack that kid?”
He slaps his attention onto me. “He attacked me first.”
“He pushed you?” Julia asks, palming his elbow.
“No, he was going off about Dad. Saying he’s the Triple S Killer. That people better keep their distance from me in case I ‘pull a Larkin’ and suffocate someone.”
My head rears so far back it feels like whiplash. Julia told me earlier about the snappy little nickname the kids have given Gavin’s murderer, but I’m shocked to hear they’ve now applied it to Jason. Julia’s gaze, wide with alarm, flicks between me and Aiden.
“That’s not—” she says. “He didn’t—” But she doesn’t finish either sentence.
“How would this kid even know to connect him to the case?” I ask. “The police can’t name him as a suspect unless he’s been arrested.”
Aiden shrugs. “His mom’s a cop in Hillstead. I guess she said something.”
“Oh,did she. And what’s this kid’s name again?”
“Nate Hyde.”
“Great, I’ll be right back.”
“Sienna—” Julia tries, but I stalk out of Jason’s room, and before I even reach the lounge down the hall, my phone is at my ear.
Wyatt answers in the middle of the third ring. “Sienna. Are you okay?”
“No, actually.” I march into the empty lounge. “Do you work with a Hyde?”
“Um. Yeah? Hold on, I’m at the station, let me step outside a second.”
