Silent Sister by Megan Davidhizar

Author:Megan Davidhizar [Davidhizar, Megan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2024-08-06T00:00:00+00:00

Mirror, mirror on the wall

Who is this person I’ve become?

I don’t recognize her voice.

I don’t know her laughter.

I’ve been locked in a tower

Waiting for a rescue

But now that I’m free

I see the life I’ve been missing.

I’m not the princess to protect.

I’m the dragon spreading its wings.

My chains are broken and I’m alive.

My story could end with a happily-ever-after.

CHAPTER 17

Grace: May 2

Arrest made in the Forest Lane Academy murder case.

The words haunt me. By the time I leave this police station, I’ll know who killed Maddy.

But right now, no one tells us anything.

Officer Jones shows us into Detective Howard’s office to wait. Unlike the bare interview room from my last visit, this room is more informal, personal. Without a window, the space is especially cramped, with a cluttered desk and two worn chairs across from it. A photograph sits on the desk, and a Cubs banner is pinned to the wall above an empty space. A broken clock hangs next to it, permanently stuck at 7:28.

If Nicole’s lawyer wasn’t still forbidding her from contacting me, I’m sure she’d be sending me messages, asking if Mr. Gutter is the one arrested. Unlike Erica, she’d actually care about the truth, not the rumors.

I don’t know if it’s Mr. Gutter. I don’t know anything, because no one will tell us anything.

I search the web for updates. The original report is only a few sentences long, saying police came to a French Lake home and drove away with one of its residents. A name, however, is not listed. The rest of the article covers the details of our case again, offering nothing new.

“What’s taking them so long?” I poke my head out the door.

“I’m sure we’ll get answers soon,” Mom says. Her jiggling leg betrays her—that and the way she shouted at a young officer for updates when we arrived, before Jones showed us into Detective Howard’s office. Mom’s no more patient than I am, but if she’s trying to make me feel better, the least I can do is play along.

I flop back into the chair and refresh my search results.

Mom’s already disposed of old receipts and expired coupons from her purse. She’s moved on to pulling a tissue from the box on Detective Howard’s desk and wiping furiously at a black streak running across the fake leather. Waiting isn’t easy on either of us. She cleans and I research. Both of us avoid discussing the what-ifs.

When the door opens, I expect it to be an officer, someone who will tell us the unreported details from the media release.

Instead, Dad comes in, still talking on the phone with, it sounds like, someone from work. He hugs Mom and kisses my forehead in between giving instructions to whomever is on the other end of the call, and then hangs up.

“I’m sorry, I got here as soon as I could,” he tells Mom. She doesn’t say anything, but I know she’s filing this instance away in her mental drawer of Things to Yell at Husband about Later.

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