Chapter 33
Sadie
My phone vibrates again, and I groan. I have to settle my mom and get my thoughts in order before I talk to James and shore myself up for the distance and disappointment I know I’ll see in his eyes.
But as I look down, my eyes snag on the words “JAMES IS IN TROUBLE!” as a message flashes across the top of my screen.
Shit! I tap on it.
JAMES IS IN TROUBLE! He went to Queens to look for you. He called me. Something happened to him. I heard a shout and a scuffle. Call me.
My mouth drops open. James went to my mom’s?
Why? But I guess I did just disappear from the office.
I look at my watch: for six hours. Never in a million years did I think James would come looking for me, but then …
I stare across at the black frame of the hostel bunkbed opposite.
He knows about Jake. God, I made him worry.
Now I’ve created even more trouble. But going back in there to face Jo and James with them knowing what I did … I groan and sink onto my bunk.
I press James’s number, but it goes straight to voicemail, and my voice wavers as I leave a message saying that I’m okay and I’ll talk to him soon. Then I call Des.
“Sadie.”
“Des. I’m so sorry.”
“Sadie, what the fuck? Where the hell are you? James said you disappeared from work.”
My hand starts to shake where I’m gripping my phone. “I’m back at the hostel. What happened to James? Where is he?”
“I don’t know! One minute I was on the call, the next there was a scuffle and a shout, and the phone went dead.”
A scuffle? I glance around the empty dorm: the clean wooden floors and the gray sheets. Mom headed out to the grocery store about ten minutes ago. It’s all a million miles away from South Jamaica. Christ, this is all my fault. How much did James tell Des about Jake? My body gets hot.
“He went to my mom’s apartment? My stepdad is a loose cannon. If he met Jake, then all bets are off.”
“I don’t think it had anything to do with your stepdad, Sadie. James told me he’d talked to him, discovered that you weren’t there, and he was heading out when he called me.”
A lot of assholes live in that place; anyone could have been hanging around.
There’s Cady on the floor below … I went to school with Cade.
He’s a low-level crook, and he and his goons are always dicking about in the stairwell, smoking weed.
I wouldn’t imagine he’d be up for assault, but he might have some information about James or know who to talk to.
“I’ll head out there, Des, see what I can find out.”
“No fucking way, Sadie. Call the police. I think if I called them from South Korea, they’d think I was a scammer and wouldn’t take me seriously.”
“I’ve lived in Jamaica Houses all my life, Des. I know people. I can ask around. I’ll be fine.”
“At the very least, call the cops before you go. Christ, I hope he’s okay. I wish I was there. After the last time …” He stops abruptly. I understand. I hate thinking about James on the roof of that building.
“Why did you disappear today?” Des says.
Does he know? God, I can’t talk to Des about my nonexistent degree, can I? I owe James that conversation first. But how lame does that whole lie feel now that James has been attacked? I shouldn’t have run off like that. I’m an idiot.
“My mom had a few problems that I needed to deal with.” It’s all I can come up with.
“I’m so sorry, Des.” At least it’s not wholly untrue.
One lie begets another, as my mom always says—and she’s not wrong.
“I don’t want to make excuses, though. I should have called James. You have every right to fire me.”
“Okay, okay, chickadee. Less of the crazy talk. Let’s find James first. Call the police and update me as soon as you know anything.”
He definitely doesn’t know about my lack of a degree: He wouldn’t react like that if he did. Anyway, I’m not calling the cops, but I am going to go and see Cady. He owes me.