The Good Girls

Chapter 24

JANE COULD BARELY MAKE OUT what Audrey was saying through her hysterical sobs. She pressed the phone to her ear, trying to discern a few clear words. Finally she pieced together a sentence, but she almost wished she hadn't.

"Someone pushed my stepmother off her balcony!"

"Jesus," Jane gasped. "Just breathe, Audrey. Breathe." She took her own advice, inhaling and exhaling slowly. "Is she . . . did she . . ."

"She's alive. She's in a coma."

Jane shut her eyes. "Oh, thank god, Audrey."

"What's happening, Jane?" Audrey sniffled into the phone. "What are we going to do?"

Jane stood up and shut her bedroom door. Her mother was downstairs fixing dinner, but she somehow had also spent a lot of time lurking around her room the last few days. Jane wasn't sure if her mom was being supportive or suspicious, but either way, she didn't want her hearing any part of this conversation.

What were they going to do? It was clear now that this wasn't a coincidence. The killer was going down their list like it was the telephone tree parents used when school was canceled. And it was, in some way, their fault. If they hadn't said those names, none of this would have happened.

She sat back down on her bed and gripped her phone hard. "We need to stay calm and stick together, okay?"

"Yeah." Audrey gulped. "The scariest part is that the killer was in my house the same time I was."

Jane shuddered. It was a horrible thought. She tried to imagine the killer downstairs in her own house, right that second. Her limbs went cold with fear.

"I could have seen her—maybe I could have stopped her—if only I'd known to look." Audrey began crying heavily again.

Jane cocked her head at Ava's words. "I'm still not sold on the fact that the killer is a girl."

"Chad said he saw a girl going into Granger's," Audrey said. "And . . . I don't know. It just feels right."

There was an awkward silence. Then Jane realized something. At least there was one upshot: There was no way Audrey was the killer, and Audrey had to know that Jane wasn't, either—otherwise she wouldn't have called her. Maybe they could start trusting each other again.

"Have you heard from the others?" Jane asked.
Audrey cleared her throat. "I texted Evie but haven't heard from her yet. I'm going to try Uma next."

Jane shut her eyes, trying to imagine one of the others sneaking into Audrey's house and pushing a random woman off a balcony. They weren't capable of that, were they? It had to be someone else.

They clicked off the call, and Jane tossed her cell onto her bed and paced the room anxiously. Her cello beckoned, but she couldn't imagine playing. Then, her phone chirped from under the folds of the comforter. She fumbled around for it. Carlos had sent her a Snapchat of a pink sprinkles cupcake, her favorite flavor. And he'd drawn little glasses and a mustache on the cupcake. The sight of it somehow cheered her up.

Jane grimaced. No, no, no. But before she even knew what she was doing, she dialed Carlos's number. It rang once . . . twice. . . .

What are you thinking? She quickly pulled the phone away and hit END before he could answer, stabbed at her phone to make sure she'd really hung up, and then turned it off so that Carlos couldn't call her back. Why would you talk to Carlos ever again, after how he treated you? a voice in her head scolded her.

But the card he'd written was tucked into her underwear drawer, under a Miracle Bra she'd always been too chicken to wear. She and Lonnie had bought them together, giggling in a Victoria's Secret back dressing room.