Chapter 38 Avery
Avery
Kaitlyn’s words about Mr. Jay hang in the air between us long after she speaks them.
I want to tell her I’m so, so sorry for Hadley.
I want to tell her I also wanted Jay dead.
But with Ms. Dorman here, I can’t risk saying those words out loud—especially not with how Ms. Dorman’s looking at Kaitlyn now.
Like she thinks she’s now trapped herself with an actual killer.
But there’s Javi, and Ms. Dorman must know that Kaitlyn would never, ever kill Javi. She loves him too much. Killing him—killing the person who was always by her side, even when others weren’t—doesn’t make any sense. I’m still mulling this over when a scream tears through the silence.
Ice fills my body, and Ms. Dorman jumps out of the chair, her hands flying up like a stop sign to keep both Kaitlyn and me from getting up.
It has the same effect that her cold glare in class does: It freezes us in place, even as the scream continues to echo in my head.
I can’t say whose it was, only that it came from outside.
“Maybe it’s a ghost,” Kaitlyn says, shifting in her spot on the couch. “Mr. Jay’s returned to haunt us from the beyond.”
“Shut up,” Ms. Dorman says. “For once in your life, shut up.”
I half expect Kaitlyn to bite out another flippant comment out of spite, but instead, she pinches her lips together and stays quiet. In the silence, a new sound starts to groan out. A garbled, stretched sound.
“The record player,” I whisper. “It keeps doing that.”
“Haunted,” Kaitlyn says. “So obviously haunted.”
Ms. Dorman doesn’t have to say “Shut up” this time. She just fixes Kaitlyn with another stare. As the record player continues playing, Dorman reaches into her pocket and hands me something. It’s a small container, almost like an inhaler.
“Mace,” she says, not taking her eyes off the front door. “Point and shoot, Avery. And don’t hesitate.”
My hand trembles the second the Mace falls into my grip, but I close my fingers around it anyway.
Next to me, Kaitlyn’s eyes dart from the Mace to Ms. Dorman, and her fingers flex as she waits for her own.
But Ms. Dorman offers her nothing, only turns and walks in the direction of the record player.
“Bitch,” Kaitlyn mutters.
“I’ll do it for both of us,” I say. “Just stay close.”
Kaitlyn doesn’t answer me, but she watches me carefully. And even with what I know now about Kaitlyn’s history with Mr. Jay, I don’t think she killed him. She’s in the house with me, after all. And for now, that’s enough.
The record player stops, and I hear Ms. Dorman’s sigh of relief. There are soft footsteps as she disappears deeper into the house, and suddenly, Kaitlyn’s hand is grabbing my free one.
“Don’t leave me,” she says softly.
She’s barely gotten the words out when another scream makes us both jump, and this time, it’s not outside. This time, it’s coming from down the hallway.
“Ms. Dorman,” I murmur, leaping to my feet.
But Kaitlyn’s hand is holding mine like a vise, her head shaking back and forth.
“Come on.” I yank her forward, but her feet are firmly rooted to the ground.
“No way,” she says. “I’m not dying for Dorman.”
“It’s not a ghost!” I tell her, even as my heart hammers. “Now come on!”
When she doesn’t relent, I pull my hand free and race down the hall in the direction Ms. Dorman went in.
I exhale, relieved when I hear Kaitlyn running behind me.
We turn the corner, and several framed pictures and sculptures have been knocked to the ground, and in the middle of them all is Ms. Dorman.
“Ms. Dorman!” I yelp, rushing to her. I push a picture off her and roll the ball-shaped sculpture near her head to the side. She’s unconscious, but when I touch her wrist, I feel a pulse.
“Get me something cold,” I say to Kaitlyn. “Hurry!”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Kaitlyn asks. “There isn’t time for something cold! Someone knocked her out. Where’s the Mace?”
I hold it up with my free hand, keeping the other on Ms. Dorman’s wrist. I look around, searching for where an attacker could have gone. Next to me, Kaitlyn’s breathing hard, her eyes flitting from me to Ms. Dorman on the ground.
“Is she dead?”
I shake my head, trying not to think about the fact that we may just have locked the attacker in here with us. And the truth is, there are so, so many rooms in this damn house. We’ll never be safe, not unless we can watch every room at the same time.
“We need to check these closets,” I tell Kaitlyn, letting Ms. Dorman’s wrist fall to the ground and then standing up. “Quickly. They couldn’t have gone far. Here, I’ll—”
I’m reaching for the door nearest me, Mace in hand, as Kaitlyn is telling me not to. I turn back to see that I don’t need to open the door because it’s opening already.
A hand appears around the corner.
“Marlene?”