Page 54 of The Debutantes
“What do you mean?”
Vivian crosses her arms. “Are you in this, or not? Because it seems like a no.”
Piper picks at a string on the end of her quarter-zip.
“My parents caught me sneaking back in last night,” she says finally.
“Oh.” Vivian’s hands fall to her sides. “Shit.”
“A family friend saw us in the Quarter. And apparently, Milford snitched to his mom—not about the Pierrot, but about our… you know. Interrogative tactics. So, needless to say, Mom and Dad were pissed.”
I wince. As annoyed as I am at Piper, I’ve seen Mrs. Johnsonduring our debutante rehearsals, and I wouldn’t want to be in the line of fire when she’s mad.
“And they also said…” Piper tucks a piece of hair behind her ear, a rare anxious tic. “Okay, like, cone of silence on this, obviously, but they heard from Lily’s parents, and apparently she took out a bunch of cash after the ball. So, with her car and phone missing, too, they think… you know. They think she really did just run.”
For a moment, we’re both frozen. Then Vivian shakes her head sharply.
“No. No way.”
“It makes sense.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“Look, I didn’t want to believe it, either,” Piper says, “but maybe we jumped to conclusions too fast.”
“What about the Jester?” Vivian argues. “What about—”
“I know,” Piper says. “Iknow,okay? But I think, considering how much more dangerous this has all gotten since yesterday, it might be smart of us to take a step back.”
Vivian’s face hardens, but she doesn’t argue.
Well, for once, I’m not staying quiet.
“So let me get this straight,” I start. “Lily’s missing. Someone’s after us, maybe the same person who killed Margot, and you want to justtake a step back?”
“We don’t know for sure that Margot was killed,” Piper points out.
“Oh, great, so we’re back to this again.” I glare at her. “So what?Allof this is just a coincidence?”
“April…”
“What?” This time, I say it like a challenge. Because I need her to say it to my face, what I know she’s thinking. Whateveryone else has already believed for a year: that Margot’s death was tragic but not surprising. That you can’t mourn a girl who practically signed her own death certificate.
But what she says is “The police said it was an overdose. They never mentioned the possibility of foul play. Her parents moved away and never talked about it. I don’t know about you, but if I thought someone had killed my kid, I wouldn’t just let it go. I’m sorry, April, but what you’re saying is just—”
“Crazy? Impossible? So is this entire fucking thing, and it’s really happening.”
Angry tears are stinging my eyes now, but I blink them away. Piper’s mouth falls open, like she’s not sure what to say.
“What?” I demand.
“It’s not crazy,” she says. “It’s normal to want to find explanations when things like this happen, but—”
“Don’t therapize me.” I wipe a stray tear away with my knuckle. “You’re not your dad.”
“Hey, maybe we should take a second,” Vivian tries, but Piper cuts her off.
“I’m not ‘therapizing.’ I’m trying to help. I’m trying to say I understand.”
