The Revenge by Hannah Jayne

Author:Hannah Jayne
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sourcebooks
Published: 2017-05-03T04:00:00+00:00

Twenty

Tony

Bellingham was disgusted and didn’t even try to hide it. My mother was wringing her hands in her lap. My father shifted a sleeping Alice from one hip to the other. We were at the police station. Lights were flashing, and people were peering in through the windows. I didn’t know where they were holding Rustin, or if they had let him go. On the side of the highway, Pace had bowed my head, locked me into the squad car, and pulled into traffic while MacNamara talked to Rustin. He was still in cuffs, and she was taking notes in her little black book.

That couldn’t have been more than an hour ago, but it looked like every reporter in three states had heard the news and converged on the police station. At first, I thought some celebrity must have gotten arrested or some serial killer was on the loose. When we drove up and the flashes turned on Pace’s car, he chuckled and let me know that now I was a star.

We sat in a police waiting room in awkward silence.

“What were you even thinking, Tony?” My mother’s voice was soft when she finally did speak. I wished I had other explanation rather than “I saw some mini muffins and went crazy.”

“We’re not going to be able to keep this off the news, are we?” My dad’s voice was low.

“It was on the news before the cuffs ever hit Tony’s wrists.” Bellingham raked a hand through his hair, and I was struck by how old he looked now. Like my parents: aged twenty years overnight. Because of me.

Because of Hope.

I could feel the lump at the back of my throat, tears pricking my eyes. I looked at the stupid, slick gray ceiling of the police station and wished I were dead, blinking hard so I didn’t cry.

Bellingham stood. “Wait right here.”

We waited for what seemed like an eternity. I counted the ceiling tiles and listened to the whoosh and whirl of Alice’s breath as she slept. Finally, Bellingham came out.

“We can go.”

I blinked, shocked. “What?”

“Pace said we can go.”

My mother stood. “So this boy isn’t pressing charges?”

“Not exactly. They’re not pressing charges at this time and releasing Tony into our custody.”

I almost smiled, but Bellingham ran on.

“…as long as we come back within twenty-four hours to give a formal statement to the police.”

“I’ve talked to the police already,” I said.

My dad’s look was fierce. “You’ll do what Mr. Bellingham suggests, Tony.” He turned abruptly, my mother taking one quick look back before following him toward the door.

Finally, she reached out for me. “Come on, Tony.”

I took one last, sweeping look at the 127 ceiling tiles in the police department waiting room.

Two weeks ago, I didn’t even know there were ceiling tiles in this place.

I barely even knew this place existed.

Now I was a regular with a lawyer and a couple of parents who could barely look at me—and when they did, they shook their heads in disbelief or said things

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