Every Stolen Breath by Kimberly Gabriel

Author:Kimberly Gabriel
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Blink
Published: 2019-09-12T16:00:00+00:00

How??

My body shakes with anticipation.

Adam stares at the picture. Never mind.

“What are you doing?”

Adam swipes at his device. The school’s homepage. The staff intranet. He keys in a password and continues clicking. “For the record, she’s wearing an army-green jacket, not an army jacket.”

He hits the link: Locker assignments.

“How are you doing this?”

Adam looks at me through his designer glasses. “Mrs. Greenberg’s an idiot. Her password is one, two, three, four, five. What’s the locker number?”

I grab Adam’s phone and zoom in on the number above the locker Cropped Hair Girl is rummaging through. “Two, five, one, zero.”

Adam smirks like he just did something sinister. “Amy London. Junior.”

I turn to the desktop. The real research begins. My hands shake as I type Amy London’s name into the Internet toolbar and hit enter.

Katie sends another picture. A caricature of herself in a Sherlock Holmes cap and a tweed cloak fluttering behind her like a cape. Beneath her sketch, she’s included #elementary.

I should text her back, validating her impressive detective skills, telling her she’s the best friend in the world for what she’s done. Instead, Adam and I fix our concentration on our devices. I search media databases. Adam attacks social media networks. Neither of us says anything.

The first page of results proves worthless. None of the sites have anything to do with the Amy London I’m looking for.

Adam flips his iPad around. “Her social media activity looks like a short-lived phase in middle school.” She posted a few photos of her with a younger boy I’m guessing is her brother. “She has one group picture from seventh grade with fifteen nitwits we know. But the posts stop right after they started.”

“Surprising for anyone at this school.” Everyone here seems obsessed with social media.

Like Cullen and his 8,200 likes.

“Sure—except for you.”

I shrug my left shoulder, and think of Ryan. The way he shrugs his shoulder like it’s a signature move. I straighten my back, click images, and search again for Amy London. Halfway down the page, I find a poorly pixelated photo of a nine-year-old Amy London standing with a giant 54 hanging around her neck. Amy London’s hair is long and pulled back in two side braids. She looks so different I’m not sure if it’s even her.

“Give me your phone.” Adam hands it over, and I hold up Katie’s text next to the screen to see if the pictures are of the same person.

Adam peers at the comparison. “Braids are hideous, but it’s her. Not exactly Swarm material.”

I click on the image, and it takes me to someone’s personal blog. Adam and I both lean in to examine the picture. Next to her, Amy’s well-dressed father stands with his hand resting on her shoulder. The headline of the post reads “My Niece: Cook County Spelling Bee Finalist.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Adam says under his breath.

I skim the rest of the post by Amy’s aunt, who spends most of the time talking about her brother, Daniel London, being a

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