5. Emma
FIVE
Emma
The credits rolled, the lights of the old theater went up, and none of us moved. Carol gave a sigh worthy of a suffering Greek chorus and ran a hand through her hair, calming some of the frizziness in her hair.
“Wow,” I said, more to the stale popcorn air than anyone in particular. “That was, well, nothing. It was nothing."
Seriously, I hadn’t seen a single thing in this movie that might explain why Alice might disappear after this film. I also hadn’t enjoyed a second of the disaster I’d just watched.
Beth’s hands kneaded her temples, massaging away a frown. “I keep waiting for the post-credits twist, but it’s not coming. It’s just bad acting and cheap CGI.” She slumped further in her seat, hugging her purse. “What a waste of ten bucks.”
The theater emptied out quickly. We lagged behind, picking at the few scraps of gossip and disappointment the screening had left us.
We were the only ones left when the side door popped open and a girl in a neon purple shirt shuffled in, pushing a broom that looked too big for her.
She had dark, severe hair cropped in a wedge, and her earbuds hung around her neck.
She didn’t make eye contact as she swept past us, but her nametag, stuck on with blue painter’s tape, was clear. Zoe.
Beth looked at me, lifting a brow.
I nodded.
Another person to ask. A person who might have actually seen Alice directly after the movie. We didn’t have any better leads, so we might as well, right?
She began her circuit at the front, humming and avoiding our eyes, but I wasn’t going to let her escape so easily. I waited for her to get close, then flashed what I hoped was a non-threatening smile. “Hey, Zoe. Can I ask you something?”
She stopped just short of the aisle, one hand tightening on her broom handle. “I’m supposed to finish cleaning this whole theater in, like, fifteen minutes,” she said, already inching away.
“It’s about my friend Alice…” I said, unsure if my brother’s quiet partner had even been noticed by this woman.
To my surprise, her eyes snapped to mine, pupils shrinking. She tried to play it off, but I could tell she recognized her name. “Who?”
Yeah, right.
“Alice. She comes in with my brother, Henry, pretty often. You know, kind of awkward, kind of sweet. Likes the classics?” I watched her carefully.
“I–”
“I can tell you know her. Just like everyone else we talked to here.”
Zoe set the broom against a seat, which I decided meant she was interested enough to stay a minute. “Yeah, okay, I know her. She’s cool.”
“She’s been hard to reach lately.” I kept my tone gentle. “We’re all trying to gather as much information as we can about what’s been going on with her. I know she came in a couple days ago…”
Zoe folded her arms, the scrub top twisting at her elbows. “She comes in, like, every week. Sometimes with your brother, sometimes by herself.” She shrugged, face tight.
I tried a softer tactic. “I just want to make sure she’s not in any kind of trouble.”
“Not that I would know of,” Zoe said. She picked at the sticker on her nametag. “She’s just really into movies. Like, obsessively.”
Beth was listening, but impatience was burning through her. She leaned over the seat and cut in, “Has she ever brought anyone else? Not Henry, I mean. Someone you didn’t recognize?”
Zoe’s jaw went tense. “Why? Who’s asking?” There was a defensive edge in her voice.
“We’re just curious,” I said, holding up my hands.
She started backing away, so Carol stepped into the aisle and blocked her off. Carol gave Zoe a friendly but unblinking smile. “You don’t have to be nervous. We’re just trying to help our friend. Have you seen anyone suspicious hanging around?”
Zoe’s gaze darted from me to Carol, to Beth, to Deva, and back again. Her shoulders tensed, and her hand crept toward her back pocket, like she might bolt or hit the panic button on her phone.
Deva saw it too. “We’re not cops,” she said, hands raised. “And we’re not mad at Alice. She’s just been missing a few game nights, that’s all.”
I could practically see Zoe’s brain running the math. She hesitated, then shook her head, grabbed her broom, and stepped over the chairs to escape the aisle we were in. “If you want to know where Alice is, you should ask her. Not me.” Then she speed-walked for the door.
Beth watched her go, eyes narrowing. “She’s hiding something,” she said.
“She’s a teenager,” Carol replied, arms folded. “They’re genetically engineered to hide things.”
I glanced at Deva, who looked thoughtful, and then at the rapidly retreating Zoe.
“I think we should talk to her again,” I said, moving toward the exit. “But gently.”
Beth and Carol exchanged glances, shrugged, and followed. Deva brought up the rear. We spilled out into the tiled lobby, catching a glimpse of Zoe turning the corner and disappearing down the hallway that led to the staff area.
“She’s gonna run,” Beth said. Darn it. She was right.
We took off, sneakers squeaking on the tiles, me and Beth in the lead.
Zoe heard us and broke into a sprint, dropping her broom behind her.
She tore through the emergency exit and into the alley, the metal door slamming hard enough to echo down the street.
We pounded after her, lungs burning from the sudden chase.
For a second, I thought we’d lost her, but then I caught the hem of her shirt top vanishing behind a dumpster. She was quick, but Beth was faster, years of single motherhood and caffeine propelling her down the alley like a heat-seeking missile.
Carol, who was not built for speed but never let that stop her, hustled after us with impressive determination. As we rounded the corner, Zoe dashed toward the parking lot at the back of the building. The only thing in her way was a chain-link fence and a parked minivan with its trunk open.
She made it to the fence, hooked her fingers in, and started to climb. Beth yelled, “Don’t!” but Zoe ignored her, scaling the links with desperate energy. Carol muttered something under her breath and pointed at Zoe’s shoes.
Suddenly, Zoe’s upward momentum evaporated. Her hands gripped the fence, but her feet seemed glued to the crossbar. She hung there for a moment, confusion flickering across her face, then tried again and managed only a slow, cartoonish drag upward, like the world had switched to half-speed.
Beth reached her first and put a gentle hand on Zoe’s calf. “We’re not going to hurt you,” she said earnestly.
Zoe twisted to look down, the panic giving way to total bewilderment. “What the—?” Zoe’s face crumpled, all the bravado draining away. “I can’t tell you anything, okay? If I do, I’ll get fired, and I really need this job.”
Deva stepped forward. “We’ll keep it off the record. No need for the movie theater to know, but if Alice is in trouble, we have to know.”
Zoe dropped down from the fence and hugged herself, her knuckles white. “She’s not in trouble. She’s just…” She hesitated, then looked at me. “She’s just different.”
“Different how?” I asked, keeping my tone soft.
“She likes to come in after hours,” Zoe said, glancing over her shoulder as if someone might overhear. “Sometimes she pays me to let her see movies early. Like, the week before they come out. I’m not supposed to do it, but she’s really nice. Not like the creeps that hang around after midnight.”
Beth exchanged a look with Carol. “She pays you?”
“Yeah. Not a lot, but enough to help me out. I’d lose my job if the manager found out.” She wiped her palms on her pants. “Is that all? Are you gonna tell?”
“Not if you help us,” I promised. “Has she ever met anyone here? Like, during those private showings?”
A silence stretched long enough that all three of us did a synchronized sigh.
I shifted closer to her. “Zoe, I’m not here to get you in trouble. I just needed to know if Alice ever meets anyone else here. Just so we have another person to ask questions.”
She looked guilty. “Not during those shows. But sometimes she comes for the midnight marathon. She never buys tickets for those, just sneaks in. And there’s always someone with her, but I haven’t seen who.
They wait outside, and then Alice walks in with them.
The other person wears a hoodie and, like, hats and stuff. Every time.”
She glanced around, as if the shadowy figure might burst out of the dumpster for an encore right now.
“Could it have been Henry? My brother?”
Zoe shook her head instantly. “No way. He comes with her to regular shows, like, five or six p.m. And he definitely doesn’t dress up. Dude wears button-ups. Sometimes Hawaiian shirts. This person is smaller, maybe? But it's hard to say. They always keep their head down.”
I couldn’t quite process it. Alice was sneaking around, meeting mystery guests at midnight, and nobody thought to mention this until now? What kind of Nancy Drew nonsense had my brother gotten tangled up in?
Beth seemed to be following my logic trail. “So, the times Alice comes in with Henry, she’s not masking her identity. But for midnight movies, the other person is always in disguise?”
Zoe nodded. “It’s kind of creepy, honestly. But Alice doesn’t seem, like, scared or anything. They just sit in the back row and leave together. I never see their faces.”
Carol gave Beth a look, and Beth gave me one right back. We were all thinking the same thing. What were we supposed to do with this information?
“I promise,” I said to her, “we won’t tell a soul. But do you remember if the other person ever spoke? Like, did they sound old or young?”
She shook her head. “Never heard them say a word. Sometimes Alice would whisper, but always in a language I didn’t recognize. Maybe it wasn’t English?”
Now that was interesting. “Not English? What did it sound like?”
Zoe shrugged. “I don’t know. I only speak English and Spanish. It was weird, though. Kind of soft? I just left them alone.”
Carol asked, “You didn’t notice any perfume, cologne, anything that stood out?”