Chapter Seventy-Six
Sky
I pull myself up the iron staircase, rattling the entire building, and fling myself into the hallway, praying that Ruby is mistaken, and that she is currently entertaining someone else’s mother.
Your mum is here?? Where the fuck are you?
I didn’t even bother responding to the text, too shocked that I had forgotten I had parents, and instead bolted out of the woods. My hair is stuck to the sweat on my cheeks, and my fingertips are raw. I’m still in my pajamas and Cade’s hoodie from the night before, and I weave around the myriad of stacked boxes in the corridor, hoping that my father is anywhere else. The scent of hairspray and perfume wafts from each room, suffocating me with trepidation, and I yank out my phone to check the time.
My erratic heart stutters.
The ceremony starts in forty minutes.
Jesus, where the hell is Cade?! I checked the shack, the tracks, and Wakeman Hall. I even doubled back and made sure he wasn’t with Bobby. I can’t find him anywhere, and there’s no more time left.
I practically miss our own room and have to grab onto the door frame to stop myself, panting in the threshold.
“Sky?”
I cringe and look up.
“Mom!” I plaster a shrill smile on my face.
She’s sitting on my unmade bed, hands perfectly folded in her lap. Thankfully, my father is nowhere in sight, but Ruby’s glare could make up for it. Her heavily lined eyes are chewing me out for subjecting her to parental awkwardness. I try to apologize with a quick grimace, but she rolls her eyes and snatches up a pair of chucks.
“I’m going to go see if Callie and Lana are ready.” She bristles past me, and then pauses, turning. “It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Lyons.”
“Oh, you too. See you out there.” My mom gives her a thumbs up.
My jaw nearly hits the floor when Ruby returns the cheesy gesture, and if I wasn’t mentally and physically drained, I would relish calling her out on it.
“Was someone on their knees all night?” Ruby leans into my ear, whispering slyly under her breath before ducking out.
My brows come together as I look down my pants and spot the grass stains.
“Aren’t you running late, honey?” My mom stands, and I whip my head up. “Your roommate said you were helping another girl with their hair, but what about your own?”
She swipes some of my damp strands off my forehead, and it takes me a moment to realize the lie Ruby concocted for me. I make a note to thank her if we survive today.
“I’m just going to tie it back,” I say absentmindedly. “Where’s dad?”
Of course, I knew they would be here for graduation, but I wasn’t willing to find out the details when my father is typically the one to handle all their travels. If there were plans I needed to be aware of, he would have made sure I was informed. But I hadn’t heard anything. And I’ve also been distracted.
The knot in my stomach tightens.
I didn’t even think about my parents. Am I going to get them killed today?
“Oh. Did he not tell you that he couldn’t make it?”
“Couldn’t make it?” I balk.
Today is a perfect photo op. His only child graduating? He wouldn’t miss this.
My mother shrugs coyly, and I notice she’s not nearly as glassy eyed as usual. Her hair is perfectly polished, too. She usually looks put together—as is expected of a congressman’s wife—but if someone looked close enough, they would find the ends of her hair slightly frizzed from the frequent naps she takes, or the smudge of her lip liner that she can’t notice has smeared through the haze of her benzos. But today there is none of that. She’s even sporting her natural nails. No nibbled bits in sight.
“Mom, what’s going on?”
“He just said he was busy.” She shrugs again.
I tilt my head in disbelief.
“I really don’t know, honey.” She sighs, giving in. “He hasn’t been home much these last few months and… do we really want to question it?” She holds my stare.
We both know what she’s trying to say. Any time away from him is a blessing. And I suppose this is a godsend. I slowly nod, and she wraps an arm around me.
“Exactly. Let’s not look a gift horse in the mouth, shall we? It’s a big day, my beautiful graduate. Get dressed so we can enjoy it.”
I barely have time to put my hair in a bun—at my mother’s urging—and slip into the cap and gown before Ruby and the girls tear me away from her and start corralling me down the stairs.
Stepping outside, the energized chatter hits me, popping the bubble I hid in while I rushed to get ready. The one where this is supposed to be a day to be excited about, one where there aren’t bombs strapped to the undersides of our seats.
Thick graphite clouds have moved in, setting an oppressive dome over the festivities. The humidity immediately collects in the hollow of my throat, and I feel trapped in my black gown, smothered and clammy. I have to squint against the reflective gray, my eyes burning and bloodshot. I didn’t sleep, and all at once it catches up with me. I’m in a blurry daze as Ruby loops her arm through mine and drags me to the backside of Lamb Hall.
“Can you believe this is it?” she whispers conspiratorially. “I’m never coming back here. Not even for any bullshit high school reunion. You couldn’t pay…”
I tune her out and scan the nauseating jumble of faces. Everyone is so bright and alive, oblivious and at ease. Parents mill about with their air of superiority while the senior class sashays in matching black gowns. Burial garb , I think grimly, and my mouth goes dry.
Where is Cade!?
My heart ricochets painfully. The stage is set with a lacquered wood podium, and a few teachers stand beside it, heads bent over a microphone like they are hooking it up. The headmistress is off to the side, arranging a bouquet of rolled parchments. The diplomas. The death certificates. I shake my head and start scanning again. He has to be here somewhere. My gaze freezes on a perplexed set of parents. The woman has frizzy brown hair and cushy cheeks. There’s something familiar about her face, though I know I’ve never met her. And the man’s slight hunch on his shoulders…
The blood drains from my face. Are they Bobby’s parents?
They crane their heads around, looking for their son, and panic blooms in my chest.
“Jeez,” Ruby suddenly wrenches her hand from mine. “What do you got, stage fright or something?”
I tear my eyes away from the soon to be grieving parents, not realizing I had clutched Ruby’s hand and that my knuckles are locked in a vise.
“Ye—Yeah.” I stutter, stretching out my fingers.
“Well, I’m one row behind you, Barbie.” She begins to leave me in an aisle. “But you got Callie with you.” She smirks. “You two should do great up there. Just picture everyone naked,” she says sarcastically.
Or dead, I want to whimper as she turns her back.
“Just take deep breaths,” Callie squeaks beside me and pulls me down gently. “I’ve been doing it all morning, and it’s working.”
Right. I just need to breathe. It’s going to be okay. I start to draw humid air through my nose, hoping I haven’t committed us all to our dooms, when my butt touches the smooth chair and I yelp.
Callie gives me an odd look, but I wave it away. I’m fine. We’re all fine. I swallow down the panic.
I let the chair burn through my clothes and force my hands under my thighs to stop their shaking. I don’t know if this is one with a bomb, not that it matters. Cade’s journal outlined the radius of each explosive, and none of us are safe. Regardless, I try to orient myself and remember which chairs are strapped. I wasn’t paying much attention to placement last night, but I think… I think… I think there is one under Callie. Did I look at that one? It was so dark… What if…
The sudden urge to stand up and scream comes over me, to yell for everyone to leave. Get out now. There’s a bomb! I could screech with a strangle. Everyone would panic. There would be chaos. Police would be called. A bomb squad. Graduation would be rescheduled. The muscles in my legs tighten, ready to stand…
But then all the air leaves my lungs.
Cade.
My heart swells and eases, my body sagging at the sight of him. He’s off to the edge of the stage, a demon in a cap and gown, striking against the monochrome day. I want to look around, wondering if anyone has become as captivated as I have, but I can’t tear my gaze away. He’s as stoic as ever, his eyes staring blankly ahead, jaw set. If I didn’t know any better, I wouldn’t suspect a thing, and I squint to find the indicators. But he looks good, rested even. Shoulders back and chin high. He’s regal, handsome in the cap with the gold tassel on the left. I feel myself relax at his calm demeanor. Did he change his mind?
I let my eyes track down his black robe, taking in how eerily similar it looks to the reaper shroud he wore on Halloween, and then to his fists, clenched and white knuckled at his sides.
And then I spot it.
The indicator.
The tiny device in his grip.
The detonator.