They Just Don't Know You

Chapter 19

Jade's POV

Sunday, September 29

I can't sit still.

I pace through Nana's house all afternoon, picking things up and then putting them down. The bookshelves in her living room are full of those porcelain figures she likes, Hummels, Nana calls them. Little boys and girls with blonde hair and apple cheeks, climbing trees and carrying baskets and hugging one another. Nana told me, when I picked one up a couple of days ago, that Norma had broken it when she was ten.

"Knocked that one on the ground so its head split in two," Nana said. "She glued the pieces back together. I didn't notice for weeks."

Once you know to look for it though, it's obvious. I held the porcelain girl in my hand and stared at the jagged white line running down one side of her face. "Were you mad?" I'd asked Nana.

"Furious," she said. "Those are collector's items. The girls weren't supposed to touch them. But Norma couldn't keep her hands off them. I knew it was her, even when Amelia told me she'd done it."

"Amelia did? Why?"

"She didn't want her sister to get punished," Nana said. For the first time when talking about Amelia, a spasm of grief crossed her face. "I was always a little harder on Norma, I suppose. Because she was usually the one causing trouble."

It didn't occur to me, until just now, that some of that sadness might have been for my mother. For another cracked girl, broken and pieced clumsily back together. Still standing, but not the same. 

There's only one family photo in the living room: it's of Nana and my grandfather, looking like they're in their late 30's, and Norma and Amelia around 12 years old. I pick it up and study their faces. All I can think is: they had no idea. 

Just like Ellie's family had no idea. Or maybe they did. Maybe they've been worried since Ellie's locker was vandalised and the bloody meat was thrown on her car, wondering if there was something they should be doing. Maybe they're sick about it now. Because it's almost 1 o'clock, and nobody's heard a word from her. 

My phone buzzes, and I put the photo down to pull it from my pocket. My pulse jumps when I see a text from Perrie: Can we talk?

I hesitate. I'd thought about texting her after Officer Elliott left, but I didn't know what to say. I still don't. Grey dots appear, and I forget to breathe while I watch them.

I understand if you don't want to. 

The thing is, I do. 

I text back, Okay. Where?

Wherever you want. I could come by?

That's a good idea, because there's no way Nana's letting me out of the house today. I'm surprised she even went to the basement to do laundry. When? I ask.

10 minutes?

Okay.

I go upstairs and knock on Karl's bedroom door. He doesn't answer, probably because he's blasting music with his headphones on. It's his go-to escape whenever he's worried. I twist the knob and push open the door and sure enough, he's at his desk with a pair of Beats clamped firmly over his ears, staring at his laptop. He jumps when I tap his shoulder.

"Perrie's coming over," I say once he's pulled off the headphones.

"She is? Why?"

"Um. She didn't say, exactly. But I assume...you know. She wants to talk about Ellie and maybe..." I think about her second message. I understand if you don't want to. "Maybe explain what happened after she dropped us off."