The Predicteds by Christine Seifert

Author:Christine Seifert
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Sourcebooks, Inc.
Published: 2011-09-24T22:00:00+00:00

PART III

one of them

chapter 15

Each student will receive his or her PROFILE report in the mail prior to the public announcement. We ask that individuals refrain from sharing their status until we have time to adequately prepare everyone for the news.

—Mrs. LeAnn Temple, principal of Quiet High

He is a person of interest. That is true. But let me be clear: he has not been charged with anything. At this time.

—David Witt, chief of Quiet City Police

I wake up before dawn with the kind of headache that starts within your skull and radiates throughout your entire body. Little electrical pulses of pain shoot from my cranium to the bones in my toes. I lie awake for a long time curled up with my head under the blanket. I must eventually drift back to sleep, because the next thing I know, I’m back there. Back at school. I am right back in that cupboard again, folded away, hidden from the dark shadow pointing a gun at me. When I wake up, I feel like I’m suffocating. My heart is racing, my ears stinging from someone screaming loudly.

“What?” Melissa comes running into the room. “What in the world is wrong?” She pulls the covers down from over my head. I blink my eyes. It takes me a second to realize that I’m the one screaming.

Melissa is smoothing my hair down now. “What’s wrong, Daph? Are you sick?”

I’m embarrassed. “Just a bad a dream,” I say, shrugging it off. “No big deal.” I lift the edge of my bedroom blinds and peer out at the street. It’s long past sunrise, but the day is so gray and soupy that the streetlights are still on. Rain drools from the ominous clouds. “Ick,” I say.

When the phone rings, both Melissa and I jump. I pick up the handset next to my bed.

“They found her.” It’s Dizzy.

“Found who?” I ask. Melissa is still sitting with me. I motion for her to go, but she doesn’t move.

“January.”

“She was lost?” I shoo Melissa again, and this time, she gets up and leaves—reluctantly.

“There’s bad news.”

“Dizzy, what’s going on?”

“I don’t know if I should tell you.”

“Then why did you call?” I say impatiently.

“Daphne, listen to me. I have to tell you something.”

I rub my head, squint my eyes, and sigh heavily. I just want to take a long shower, eat some breakfast, and then go back to bed. “What?”

“Someone attacked her last night. When she didn’t come home, they called the police. The cops found her early this morning.”

“Oh, my gosh,” I say, sounding like my grandmother. I don’t know what else to say. “Is she all right? What happened?” I ask quietly, but Melissa’s radar hearing hones in anyway.

“What’s wrong?” she says, coming back to my bedroom.

I mouth, January.

“Who?” Melissa says. I ignore her.

Dizzy is so excited, she can barely form words. It takes a minute until she can pull herself together enough to talk. “She’s alive. But she was beaten pretty badly. She’s in the hospital.”

“What happened?” I ask, sitting at the edge of the bed.

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