Cypress Alley

Chapter 11

As I awoke, I pushed all thoughts of Jill out of my mind. Eliza seemed to have forgotten about it, anyway, so I thought it best if I did too. Besides, Jill was always a bully. Everyone knew that. And no one ever did anything about it. Phoebe needed to learn to defend herself, and she shouldn't be my problem. I felt a small pang of guilt as I smothered paste on my toothbrush, but brushed it away as quickly as it came. I had more important things to focus on.

After breakfast, Ms Hartley came back home and slumped back onto the couch as we each made our ways to school. Unlike Eliza and I, the others had joined the foster home pretty recently, so they all went to the same schools as they did before they joined. Eliza and I, on the other hand, didn't get a say in that. Not that we were complaining - it was the closest school to the house, and pretty decent on the scale of things. Until recently.

Eliza carried a certain skip in her step, bounding up and down onto park benches, rocks, walls - anything she could get her feet on, really. Eyes wide with fervour, she fiddled the notebook, which lay securely in her pocket, as I watched in amazement. I didn't understand where all this joy was coming from. North was dead, and we weren't getting anywhere with the case.

But about ten minutes into our walk, we were faced with the choice of either cutting through Cypress Alley - which would save us five minutes - or taking the detour through the suburbs. Up until the incident, we habitually walked right through Cypress Alley, but since then, we unanimously veered off the roadside and into the suburbs.

Today, however, something caught our eyes.

At the mouth of the Alley, a figure in a large, black coat slunk into the thicket. My blood ran cold. Beside me, Eliza took in a sharp breath. Her skipping had ceased, and her eyebrows fell. It was unlikely, but could it be...?

Eliza wrenched my hand away from my pocket as she halted in her tracks. Her fingernails dug into my palm and I winced. Thankfully, she felt the need to grab her notebook out and released me.

We stood for a couple of moments, flustered and breathless, until I finally cleared my throat to speak. "It's probably nothing," I assured her. "We're just overthinking it."

"Yeah," said Eliza, unconvinced.

"Let's just go to school."

"Do you think it's a good idea to... follow it?"

"Follow them?" I asked incredulously. "What the hell? That guy looked so shady! There's no way you're dragging me into this."

"How do you know it's a guy?" she asked slyly.

I sighed. She was pulling the same card she did on the day of the murder and I couldn't argue. Either way, my curiosity got the better of me.

"Fine," I mumbled.

Eliza pumped her fist in the air. "Let's do this!"

We tiptoed as slowly as we could, so as to muffle our footsteps, but on the dry gravel. it was futile. Instead, we decided speed would benefit us more. I straightened my shoulders, trying my best to look brave. Suffice to say, it wasn't working. I was a nervous wreck, my heart  rate rising with each passing step. Eliza, on the other hand, was exhilarated. All signs of fear had vanished, as she dragged me towards the Alley.

Cypress Alley was blooming with the morning sunlight, which spilled through the spindly branches, onto the cobblestone path. It was cooler than outside, as a fresh breeze snaked its way through the shrubbery. 

The black coat-man was hunched over some bushes, face shrouded by the greenery. He hadn't noticed us.

Eliza and I were squirming with excitement and fear, respectively. Taking a few steps forward, she motioned for me to follow. I decided I'd linger a couple of metres behind her. Someone had to live to tell the tale, after all. 

On her tiptoes now, she burrowed a hole through the branches and peeked through. White-faced, she almost instantly fell back with a crunch and a squeal.

The crunch, thankfully, came from fallen twigs and not Eliza's bones. The yell, however, was one of fear. I was torn between concern and the urge to flee, but raced forward to help Eliza up. The figure stood abruptly and faced us. I had to admit, I almost laughed. We'd certainly not stumbled upon your typical axe-murderer.

It was just Wendy.

Eliza sprung onto her heels, shoving an accusatory finger between Wendy's eyes. "I knew it! I knew it was you!"

Wendy stumbled back. "Excuse me? It's not like that. I was just-"

"Save it." Eliza flipped her ponytail dramatically as she made her way toward the bush Wendy had been crouching behind. "This," she declared, "was where North was killed."

Wendy nodded furtively. Even through her four-shades-too-light makeup, I could see her face turn pink. "Please don't tell anyone."

Eliza cackled manically. "Oh, I will tell everyone." Spotting something beneath her feet, she squealed. "Ah-ha! What's this?"

Wendy seemed on the verge of tears. "Please just leave it there."

"Elijah!" Eliza said excitedly. "It's the notebook!" 

Sure enough, Eliza pulled a small, black notebook from under her feet - the same one we'd found Wendy with previously - with North's name printed in bold, even letters on the front page.

"What could this be? Your murder plan?" Eliza asked.

Wendy cocked her head to the side. "What?"

"You know what I mean, Wendy. Spill it."

Wendy's expression shifted from one of disbelief to amusement. "Seriously? You think I killed North?"

Eliza nodded. "Duh."

Wendy laughed. "Jesus Christ. Look in the damn notebook if you want, but if you tell anyone, you're dead, you hear me?"

"I'm supposed to be the intimidating one," Eliza growled.

"Yeah, good luck with that." Turning to me for the first time, Wendy provided me, quite generously, with another glare, then spun on her heels and made her way towards the school.

Eliza stared after her. "What just happened?"

Stepping forward, I grabbed the notebook from her hands. After seeing Wendy my fear had entirely dissipated, and I was bursting to see what was inside. Opening it carefully, I began to read out loud.

My dearest friend, North,

I'm sorry for everything that happened and I miss you. I have not been the best friend, I know, but I hope you accept my apology. I should have treated you better when I was alive, but I hope heaven treats you better.

You are my bestest friend and I will always always always remember you-

Eliza spat onto the path and flicked the notebook out of my hands. Taking a couple of stabs at it, she coated it in a thick layer of dried leaves and twigs, then proceeded to march to school. I stumbled after her. It was best not to speak to her when she was like this.

So, Wendy's notebook wasn't filled with her evil ploys, after all. It was some kind of apology, I guess. Though it was a slight disappointment. Wendy had been our prime suspect, and since she was deemed guiltless, we didn't have any leads. 

But for the moment, I was concerned about the state of Eliza's toes, after all the stone-kicking she'd been engaging in. Her chin was tucked into her chest, fists so tightly bound that they had grown white at the knuckles. She was taking this far too seriously, and I wanted to remind her that this wasn't our responsibility in the first place.

But I didn't. Instead, we walked in silence as I prayed we wouldn't see Wendy again that day. I'd decided I preferred her silence to her attention because honestly, she terrified me.