Burning Read online

Jessica frowns, and a crease appears between her eyebrows. I see an echo of my brother in her expression. He always got the same look on his face when he was working on a math problem or trying to beat a new level in a video game. Even when he was little, he was always serious. Determined.

  “Come on.” I drop my hand on Jessica’s shoulder.

  She picks up her bear, and we creep across the bathroom. The floor has cooled again, and the damp tile chills the bottoms of my feet. Smoke clogs the air, making my eyes water. I pull my shirt over my nose to keep from coughing.

  Jessica drifts along beside me like a shadow. The snow piled beside Brunesfield’s walls muffles the outside noise, so all we hear are our own footsteps and the distant sounds of inmates talking in their sleep. I don’t think fifteen minutes have passed since I followed Jessica out of our dorm, so the coast should be clear. Still, nerves climb my skin. Getting caught by the night guard is the best way I can think of to completely screw myself over.

  I hesitate at the end of the hall and motion for Jessica to stop walking. I don’t hear anything, but the rubber-soled boots the guards wear don’t make much sound on the concrete. After a moment, I risk poking my head around the wall to look.

  The hall stretches before me, dark and empty. I exhale a breath I didn’t realize I was holding and gesture for Jessica to move closer.

  A narrow beam sweeps across the floor: flashlight. Shit.

  I push Jessica back and ease my body behind the wall. I wait for Mateo to come bounding down the stairs but the man who appears is taller, thinner.

  Brody.

  No. I mouth the word without making a sound and duck back behind the corner, praying Brody doesn’t come this way. This doesn’t make sense. Mateo’s shift doesn’t end until midnight, and there’s never more than one night guard on duty. They’d only call Brody if someone thought there was trouble.

  Something cold hits the back of my throat. Trouble. Of course. They know we snuck out.

  I press my lips together, trying to ignore the alarm bells sounding in my ears. This can’t be right. If they knew we snuck out, it wouldn’t be two guards patrolling the halls in the dark with flashlights. It would be a team, and there’d be sirens blaring. Officer Crane would be lining everyone up with their hands in diamonds.

  So they can’t know; they must suspect. Which means we can still make it back to our dorm without getting caught. I suck a breath in through my teeth. Brody’s blocking the quickest route, but if we circle around and head down the east hall, we could still make it to our beds before anyone discovers us missing. I wrap my hand around Jessica’s, and her fingers feel sweaty in my palm.

  “This way,” I whisper. She nods.

  Moonlight pours in through the windows in the hallway, painting the floor black and silver. I hold my breath and roll my weight to my toes to soften my footsteps. Jessica and I retrace our steps to the bathroom and then creep down toward the east hall that curves back around to our dorm. I listen for the sound of boots, but Brunesfield is eerily silent. The quiet magnifies every noise I make, until each heartbeat and footstep booms in my ears.

  I pause at the corner leading to our dorm and peer around the wall.

  Officer Mateo stands less than a foot away, close enough that I could run a finger along the back of his stiff shirt. Blood pounds in my ears. I try to duck back behind the wall, but he turns, catching me full in the face with a white beam of light.

  “Angela?” Mateo angles the flashlight away from me, illuminating his face from below, casting strange shadows over his chin and nose. The muscles along his jaw tighten. He grabs my arm and pulls me closer.

  “What the hell are you doing out here?” he snaps. He glances over his shoulder. He’s worried Brody will see us.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper, racking my brain for a good excuse. “I . . . I thought I heard something, and I came to see what it—”

  “Don’t lie to me, Davis!”

  I flinch. He’s never called me by my last name before. I’ve always been Angela. Like I’m a friend.

  “I . . .” I try to come up with an explanation for why we’re out, but nothing could explain how we got through the locked door.

  I glance at Jessica. She’s standing on the other side of the wall, where Mateo can’t see her, hugging her teddy bear to her chest. She’ll be sent back to Seg if anyone finds out she broke out of our dorm. She watches me, eyes wide. Trusting.

  Mateo rakes his fingers through his hair. A stray lock falls over his forehead. It looks almost black in the darkness, and I have a sudden, fierce desire to brush it off his face.

  “How’d you get out of your dorm?” Mateo asks, pulling me out of my daydream.

  “The door wasn’t locked.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “It wasn’t,” I insist. My cheeks burn. I hate that he’s the one who found me. His disappointment feels like a slap across the face. “What do you want me to say?”

  “What do I want you to say? It’s the middle of the night, and you’re out of bounds. Do you have any idea how much trouble you could get in?” He steps closer and lowers his voice. “Haven’t you been paying attention to what’s happening around here?”

  Something rises in my chest—this feeling of having missed the last step on a staircase. “What are you talking about?”

  Mateo cocks an eyebrow. “You haven’t noticed?”

  “I thought things were getting better. The showers and the physicals . . .”

  “Punishments are getting harsher. Yesterday, Officer Sterling gave Ellen a demerit for coughing while her hands were in diamonds.” Mateo leans in closer. “Sneaking out at night could get you a night in Seg. Girls have already been sent down for less.”

  Seg. A shiver crawls up the backs of my legs. “I didn’t know that.”

  “Well, now you do. Dammit, Angela. This isn’t the time to get in trouble!” Mateo looks so much like a guard right now, more than he ever did when he was crouched over a crossword puzzle in the Seg Block. He glances over his shoulder again, then leans in closer. The hard line of his jaw softens. “Tell me what’s going on. Really.”

  I swallow. Mateo’s standing so close that I smell the soap-and-coffee scent of his skin. I see the tiny nick on his neck where he cut himself shaving. It’s dark enough that I can almost pretend he’s not a guard and I’m not just some juvie girl. We’re just two teenagers in a club somewhere and Mateo—Ben—is asking me to tell him my problems.

  Then I see Jessica’s thin body out of the corner of my eye and it’s like a cold hand clamps down on my neck.

  I didn’t tell her the whole story back in the bathroom. It’s true that I robbed a house, and it’s true that, because of me, someone got hurt. But after I was arrested, the cops offered me a plea bargain. If I gave them Jake’s name, they promised to let me walk. Aside from the assault charge, my record was mostly petty theft, but Jake had graduated to armed robbery. And, at the ripe old age of eighteen and six months, he could be tried as an adult.

  Charlie once asked me why I didn’t take it. “Juvie only lasts two years,” I told him. “You betray someone, and you have to live with it for the rest of your life.”

  I think of that now, as I stare at the charred teddy bear hanging from Jessica’s hand. I followed her because Dr. Gruen asked me to bring her that bear, didn’t I? So what am I waiting for? I could ask Mateo to take me to the doctor right now. I could hand over the bear, tell her what I saw, and make this entire thing disappear.

  Just as I’m about to open my mouth and do exactly that, I feel it again—that sudden jolt in my gut telling me I’ve missed something big. This entire night feels wrong. I wish, for the millionth time, that I were just a little bit smarter. That I could work it out on my own.

  Jessica frowns. She looks so much like Charlie. They could have been classmates. Friends.

  “Nothing’s wrong,” I say, turning back to Mateo. “I scored a cigarette, and I know there’s a broken smoke detector in the bathroom, so I snuck ou
t to light up.”

  Mateo studies me for a long moment, like I’m one of his stupid crossword puzzles and he can’t figure out the clue. I’m used to disappointing people. But this time it feels fresh, like someone cutting open a wound that’s long healed.

  “You know I have to report this, right?” he says.

  “I know.”

  “And you’re sure you want to stick with that story?”

  I stare at the nick on his neck so I don’t have to meet his eyes. “Yes, sir,” I say.

  “Heya Ben, you there?” Brody’s voice comes out of nowhere. Every muscle in my body tenses, but then I hear the crackle of static and realize it’s just Mateo’s walkie-talkie. Mateo unclips it from his belt and raises it to his mouth.

  “I’m here,” he says. “Find anything?”

  “Negative. You?”

  Mateo hesitates. I feel his eyes on me, but I can’t bring myself to look at him. Not when he’s about to give me up to Brody. I swallow and stare down at my feet, bracing myself.

  “No,” Mateo says. “There’s no one here.”

  “Dammit. One more lap, then we call it?”

  “Sounds good,” Mateo says. I wait until he clips the walkie-talkie back to his belt before looking up.

  “You didn’t turn me in,” I say.

  Mateo switches his flashlight off. Darkness rushes in around us.

  “I’m finishing my rounds,” he says. “You will be in your bunk by the time I make it past your dorm, or my first stop tomorrow morning is Director Wu’s office. You understand that, Davis?”

  “Yes, sir,” I say. For a moment there’s silence. Then Mateo nods, and without another word, he turns and stalks down the hall in the opposite direction.

  Chapter Seventeen

  I replay those last few moments with Mateo as Jessica and I sneak back to our dorm. I picture the downward tilt of his mouth and the way his forehead furrowed with disappointment. I think of how every muscle in my body went rigid when he turned off his flashlight.

  Haven’t you been paying attention?

  It’s true, punishments have gotten harsher. Issie even mentioned that she had more demerits than ever. But so many other things are better—the new equipment and flu shots and SciGirls.

  Once again, I picture myself in the SciGirls lab coat, Mateo standing beside me. Shame warms my face. I shake my head, trying to force the fantasy away.

  “Stupid,” I say under my breath. This crush is getting out of control. Confusing. In fact, it’s a good thing Mateo found me. Now I can squash this thing once and for all.

  Jessica and I turn onto our hallway and relief rushes through me. No Brody, no Mateo. The route to our dorm is all clear. I start forward, but Jessica hesitates.

  “What’s wrong?” I whisper. Something flickers at the corner of my eye, and I flinch, whipping around. But there’s nothing there.

  “Don’t let them take me away,” Jessica says, her voice barely a whisper. “Promise.”

  I swallow. My throat feels cottony dry.

  “You mean for your trial?” I ask. “You don’t want to go to prison.”

  Jessica shifts her eyes up, considering me. It feels like she can see through my skin, all the way down to the squishy, ugly parts I don’t want anyone to know about.

  “Jessica,” I try again. “Where do you think they’re going to take you?”

  A footstep echoes down the hall, cutting us off. I pull the door open, ushering Jessica inside.

  “How did you get the lock open?” I ask as I push the door closed behind us. The hall outside our door is empty but I still shiver, imagining Brody stepping out of the shadows. I hold the doorknob still until I’m sure it’s closed. Only then do I release the latch.

  “I didn’t,” Jessica whispers. She creeps across the room and slips into her bunk, pulling the scratchy blanket up to her chin.

  “What do you mean you didn’t?”

  “It’s always unlocked,” she says. I frown. That’s impossible. The doors lock automatically.

  “It morning already?” Issie murmurs, rolling over on the top bunk. The bunk bed’s metal frame shifts as she moves. The sound makes me cringe.

  “It’s still nighttime, Is,” I say, crawling into bed. “Go to sleep.”

  “I was asleep.” She yawns. Loudly. “Tell me a story.”

  “It’s too late for that.” I punch my pillow and fold it in half, but it’s still too thin. I groan and shove my arm beneath the pillow to prop it up.

  “Please? Tell the story of us.”

  I sigh and drop my head onto the flat, lumpy pillow. Moonlight reflects off Jessica’s black eyes. She hugs the teddy bear to her chest.

  “It’s not a story,” I say. “It’s what’s going to happen.”

  My eyes droop, already heavy with sleep. When I open them again, Jessica’s no longer holding her teddy bear. She’s wrapped her arms around her pillow, and her eyes are shut.

  She hid it, I realize sleepily. Why would she do that?

  “Angie,” Issie urges. I yawn.

  “One day, we’re all breaking out of this place,” I murmur. The story flickers through my brain, but it’s not me and Issie racing through the woods. It’s me and Charlie. We’re running and running, but the wolves are right at our heels.

  “One day we’re going far, far away.”

  Loud pounding echoes through our dorm room the next morning. I groan and rub my eyes as the door swings open and Officer Crane steps into the room. The early-morning sun hits her scar, making it look even shinier and more twisted than usual. It’s like an oily rope coiling across her face.

  “Out of bed, ladies,” she barks, rapping her nightstick against the wall.

  “The hell?” Cara mutters. She pushes herself onto one elbow and wipes the sleep from her eyes with the palm of her hand. “It’s early.”

  Two more guards follow Crane into our dorm. I recognize Officer Sterling, but the other—a thin Latina woman with heavy eyebrows and a man’s haircut—is new. Issie swears from the bunk above me. Her feet swing over the side a second later. At the sight of the guards, even Cara manages to wake herself up and scramble down the rickety metal ladder.

  I force myself out of bed and shuffle to Issie’s side. Jessica stands directly across from me, her skinny arms wrapped around her chest. She glances at me, her eyes wide with fear. I wink, and some of the tension drains from her shoulders.

  “What—” I start, but Crane silences me with a look. Her mouth is a thin hard line.

  “Random search,” she says, touching a finger to her scar. “Authorized this morning.”

  Our dorm’s only been “randomly searched” once before, and that was after some new girl stole a fork from the caf. Mateo’s voice echoes through my head. My first stop tomorrow morning is Director Wu’s office. I tighten my hands into fists and pretend the pain I feel is from my fingernails digging into my palms.

  God, I’m an idiot. I really thought he wasn’t going to rat me out.

  The guards push past us. They rip the sheets and blankets off our beds. Officer Crane sweeps Cara’s conspiracy books off her locker with her nightstick. The books slam into the floor, and Cara flinches. But she doesn’t say a word.

  “This your bunk?” Officer Sterling points to the bed directly behind me. I nod and step aside to let her search. Across from me, Officer Crane climbs the ladder to Cara’s bunk. Cara’s shoulders stiffen and my mouth goes dry.

  Holy shit—the knife.

  I’d been so convinced this was about me sneaking out that I hadn’t even considered the knife. Peach could have told someone. Or maybe Mary Anne spotted it while she was here and just now realized how bad it was. I try to catch Cara’s eye, but she stares at the wall behind my head, refusing to look at me. A buzzing, restless feeling seeps into my bones.

  Officer Crane yanks back Cara’s sheets. She pats down her pillow. I knot my hands together to keep them still. Crane climbs another rung and lifts the corner of Cara’s mattress. The metal bunk cre
aks beneath her weight.

  I dig my fingernails into my palms, but this time I don’t notice the sharp bite of pain. I can’t remember how to breathe. I glance at Cara again and her eyes finally flick over to mine. She moves her head a hair to the left, and then to the right.

  Oh God. It’s not there.

  I exhale, and my shoulders slump. Officer Sterling looks up at the sound.

  “Something to say, Miss Davis?”

  “No ma’am,” I say. Behind her, I see that the new officer has completely dismantled Jessica’s bed. Her mattress leans against one wall, and her sheets and pillow lie crumpled in a ball on the floor.

  “Nothing here,” she says.

  Officer Crane levels her eyes at me. She purses her lips. I stare back, confused. I feel like I’m listening to a book on tape, only I picked up the wrong cassette and accidentally skipped ahead a chapter. Why are they here? What are they looking for?

  Two more guards I don’t recognize race past my door. Cara and I share a look. What the hell?

  Officer Crane starts stripping the sheets off my bunk. I inch closer to the door and peer into the hall. It takes me a second to make sense of what I’m seeing.

  Guards are everywhere. They file in and out of dorm rooms, stripping beds and searching lockers. A line of girls stretches down the hall, their arms twisted behind their backs. Real handcuffs glitter from their wrists.

  This isn’t a random search. It’s an all-out raid.

  “Davis!” Crane barks. I jerk backward, my shoulders rigid with fear. Officer Crane considers me for a moment, and only then do I notice where she is—and what she’s about to do.

  “Don’t—” I start, but I’m too late. Officer Crane pushes my mattress off its steel frame. Dozens of unopened letters flutter to the floor. My mother’s name stares out from each one.

  Patricia Parks. Patricia Parks. Patricia Parks.

  “What on earth?” Officer Sterling crouches beside the pile of envelopes. She picks one up and flips it over, reading the name printed on the front. “Care to explain what these are, Davis?”

  Heat rises in my cheeks. “They’re mine,” I say, and at least my voice doesn’t betray how raw I feel. “They’re just letters. From my mother.”