On Wednesday, Marianna walked into Mr. McCarthy’s classroom, her lunch in her hands. Hikari and Sadie trailed after––the former seeming, for all intents and purposes, utterly comfortable with her surroundings, while Sadie continued to look nervous.
The discovery that Daysie Smith was the killer had no groundbreaking effect on either girls’ lives, other than making Marianna feel good about herself. The actual arrest of Ms. Smith two days after their discovery was underwhelming. Alna told her this was normal. Her exact words were something like, “What were you expecting? A high-stakes gunfight? A confrontation with a long, villainous monologue?” She’d given Marianna a teasing smile, soft enough not to be demeaning. “What I do is not so glamorous. I will, however, attempt to find another case for us. If you’re willing to assist me, of course.”
Marianna agreed. Honestly, helping Alna “catch” Daysie Smith was one of the most exciting things she’d done in her entire life. As a result, Alna now spent many hours of the day hacking into the security cameras of various stores throughout the city. A new challenge, she called it. Marianna didn’t pretend to understand liking such a thing, but evidently, it was difficult enough to keep Alna entertained. That was good enough for her.
“Hey, look,” Jaxon (a boy who was a grade above Marianna) said brightly, dropping his feet to the floor from where they had been resting on his desk. “New person.” Eyes outlined with the delicate application of black eyeliner studied Sadie curiously. Hale, a transgendered boy, with inky black hair who always wore a skull earring, only gave them a quick, bored look, before looking back to his phone.
Mr. McCarthy, along with a few students, welcomed Sadie to the club, which seemed to relax her. That out of the way, Marianna and her friends each found places to sit, starting on their respective lunches.
The decision to join the Gay/Straight Alliance at her school had been one of Marianna’s better ideas. It was therapeutic, in a way. She could mention her girlfriend in front of this small group of people and didn’t have to fear strange looks or ridicule. Hikari, upon hearing where Marianna intended to spend her Wednesday lunches, immediately offered to come along, suggesting she could be the “straight supporter.” It had taken more time to convince Sadie, who was half afraid and being found out, it seemed. However, Marianna and Hikari had continued to invite Sadie to the club, trying to encourage her to go without making her feel pressured. On the fourth week, she finally agreed.
Which was why Sadie now sat in one of the many uncomfortable plastic chairs in Mr. McCarthy’s classroom, picking the gold polish off of her thumbnail.
Hikari noticed. With a roll of her eyes, she snatched Sadie’s hand, clasping it between her palms. “That’s enough of that, young lady,” Hikari ordered, her voice balanced between teasing and comforting.
In response, Sadie yanked her hand back and smacked Hikari on the arm, earning a grin in response.
That this classroom was used for the Gay/Straight Alliance was apparent. Never mind that there was a sign outside proclaiming such, but Mr. McCarthy had shown his support in other ways. Hanging above the desk he was sitting at was a poster proclaiming “Love is love” with a rainbow serving as the background. Besides that, there was the flag Sadie had been looking at, and a print of a stick figure on a swing, the sky behind it coloured pink, purple, and blue––the colours associated with bisexuals. It had the caption “I swing both ways.”
Another member, Pebble, spoke up.
“So…” Pebble drawled, lounging in her chair with legs kicked wide, an arm dangling over the back. Her bob cut was dyed a light blue, unlike the dark lilac it was before. “Any news?” Her dangling arm came up, one hand cradling her cheek as fake nails caught the light.
There was an awkward silence, as was normal for the group. Marianna looked around the room, half hoping someone else would speak up. She didn’t hate drawing attention to herself, per se, but would it hurt Jaxon or Hale to say something? Or Mr. McCarthy, for that matter. He was the leader of this club, after all.
More silence.
Concluding that no one else was planning to say anything, she piped up. “Not news.” She shifted a bit uncomfortably when at least five pairs of eyes landed on her. “But I have a topic of discussion. I just…I don’t get why LGBT+ romance books can’t be kept in the romance section of bookstores. It’d be much easier.”
Marianna’s comment had the desired effect, and most of the group launched into a thoughtful discussion on the logic behind the “genres” being separated. Sadie, getting over her initial shyness, even admitted how frustrating it could be, trying to find a “non-straight” romance.
“I swear, sometimes it’s like trying to find a very specific star in the sky when the entire sky’s filled with them. It’s easier these days. But I can’t just walk into a library and find the book or movie I want. Sometimes it takes me, like, a half-hour of searching.” Here Sadie paused and cast an apologetic look at Marianna. “Wow, I went completely off topic, didn’t I?”
“A bit,” Hikari teased, nudging her. “But it’s not a big deal.”
Sadie smiled sheepishly.
In the end, everyone had mixed opinions about the genre topic. Marianna wished stores put LGBT+ romances in the romance section, while Sadie seemed to disagree. Hikari had mixed feelings, and Pebble didn’t care either way. Even after the conversation ended up being seemingly pointless, Marianna didn’t view the club as a waste of time. Being around a group of people who wouldn’t judge her for having a girlfriend melted some weight from her shoulders and she headed back to class feeling lighter.
“Now we just have to convince Blaze to come,” Hikari commented as the three girls made their way to their respective lockers.
“Sure,” Sadie agreed, using her phone as a mirror as she applied some pink gloss to her lips. “If you can convince him to skip basketball practice for once.” She rolled her eyes, and the trio chuckled.
School went by at a normal pace after that, neither flying by nor dragging. By the time Marianna left the school over an hour after the day ended, having stayed behind with Sadie to watch Blaze’s practice basketball game, she had some math homework to do, and science homework that she was dreading.
When she got off at the bus stop near Alna’s house after five, Marianna double-checked that she had enough money for the bus she would need to take home later and shot her parents a quick text. She didn’t even know why she bothered. Considering how much time she spent at the Holt house these days, there was little wonder about where she would be. No matter how much her parents disapproved.
“Mary, hey,” Mr. Holt greeted when he opened the door for Marianna moments later. Mr. Holt must have just gotten back from work recently, as he was still wearing a professional black dress shirt. He was also in the middle of cooking supper because Marianna was certain she could smell onions. The towel in his hand was also another indicator.
“Alna’s not here at the moment,” Mr. Holt continued as he stepped back to allow Marianna entrance. “She’s at the library.”
Marianna doubted that. More likely, Alna was off hacking into more cameras or doing something else to stimulate herself.
“Oh.” Marianna paused uncertainly. “I could always come back––”
“No, it’s okay,” Mr. Holt said, cutting her off. At his suggestion, Marianna slipped off her denim jacket and handed it to him. “She should be back soon, and if she isn’t, you can always text her.”
“All right, thank you.”
Marianna hung up her coat and trailed after Aiden into the kitchen. She declined the offer of something to drink, but said she would consider staying for supper later. She took a seat at the kitchen table, realizing that retreating to Alna’s room without her present likely wouldn’t be a smart idea.
Then again, going to Alna’s room with Alna probably didn’t give the best impression, either. Marianna resolved not to overthink it and settled her light purple backpack, faded from time spent in the sun, in her lap.
“Do you mind if I get started on my homework? It’ll give me something to do while I wait for Alna.”
“Not at all,” Mr. Holt assured her, waving his hand vaguely. “Go right ahead.”
As Marianna retrieved her binder, pencil case, and textbook, one of Alna’s brothers (she could never tell them apart) wandered in.
“Dad, when’s supper gonna be ready?” he asked.
Marianna flipped through her textbook until she found page two hundred and twenty-one.
Mr. Holt sighed. “At about six; unless we wait for your mother.”
“How late is she gonna be?” the twin asked, sounding annoyed.
“I’m not sure. Sorry, kid.”
The twin sighed, sounding resigned. “Hey, Mary,” he greeted, the annoyance not quite gone.
Marianna turned to him with a smile. “Hi…” She trailed off, uncertain. Luckily, he solved that problem.
“Colton,” the boy reminded her. Marianna wondered how Alna never seemed to have any problem telling the two apart. Even her parents tripped up sometimes.
“Hi, Colton,” Marianna greeted. “What have you been up to? Did you have a good day at school?”
“It was okay,” Colton replied noncommittally. “We started learning about rocks today,” he continued, his eyes lighting up.
Marianna knew she should have started on her homework by now, but she liked Alna’s brothers, and found she couldn’t resist indulging Colton a bit. “Oh? That sounds interesting.”
“Yeah, it’s really cool.” Colton scrambled onto a chair next to Marianna’s, and she resisted the urge to reach out a hand to steady him. “Did you know there’s these shiny rocks made from lava?” he asked, brown eyes wide with his new discovery.
“No, I didn’t know that,” Marianna told him, deciding a little white lie couldn’t hurt anything. She thought she saw Mr. Holt trying to stifle a smile at the stove. It was difficult to tell with his face turned away, though. “That sounds cool.” Marianna leaned her cheek into her hand as she prepared for a lengthy conversation.
“Yeah.” Colton nodded with enthusiasm. “They’re called obi…obi-something.” Colton’s eyebrows drew together.
“Obsidian?” Marianna asked before she could even think of stopping herself. Now that the topic had come up, Marianna could vaguely recall learning about rocks in elementary school. And she’d heard about obsidian in a museum before.
“Yeah!” Colton confirmed, perking up. “How’d you know that?”
Kids, Marianna thought with fondness. Always wanting to show other people how smart they are. “I don’t know. I just remembered it from somewhere.”
“It’s so cool,” Colton said, his voice brimming with excitement.
That was all the warning Marianna received before the younger boy launched into a long-winded explanation about how “volcano rocks” were made. Colton tripped over himself a few times, forgetting certain word pronunciations, but gave off the impression that he could go on talking for quite a while. It reminded Marianna of Alna a little––how she could launch into full-blown monologues if presented with the right topic. And could talk to someone who cared to hear about her deductions.
Eventually, though, Mr. Holt coaxed his son out of the kitchen, saying he needed to give Marianna a chance to do her homework. Colton didn’t look too happy about this but obliged, and Marianna finally started on her math homework.
Five minutes later, the front door opened for the second time. A moment later, Alna appeared in the kitchen entrance, her typical impassive mask softening a bit when she spotted Marinna. She walked over, bending down to give Marianna a quick peck on the lips in greeting. Mr. Holt turned back to the stove.
Marianna was already gathering up her stuff as Alna took a seat, setting a book on the table, and her bag on the floor. However, as Marianna reached for one of her papers, Alna snatched it off the table and looked it over while Mariana stared at her in bewilderment.
“Hello, Dad,” Alna said, sounding distracted as she examined Marianna’s homework.
“Hey, hon,” Mr. Holt greeted her, turning around and leaning against the counter. “Find anything good at the library?”
In response, Alna pushed her book close to the edge of the table so he could glimpse the cover. Marianna glanced at the title: The Woman in White. She wondered if Alna was a fast reader, or if she liked to read more than one book at once. She could have sworn she had seen bookmarks in at least three different books in her room at some point.
Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
Going by how much time Alna put into their “case,” Marianna felt safe voting on the latter.
Mr. Holt picked the book up.
“This math is rather simple, in my opinion,” Alna said, handing the sheet of paper back. “You seem to be doing rather well.”
Marianna wasn’t sure what to make of those two comments put together. That didn’t stop a slight flush from appearing––although it was much less pronounced than normal.
“Math isn’t so bad.” She almost added, As long as I remember the formulas, and have a calculator, but decided not to. “It’s science that gives me trouble.”
Alna gave her a thoughtful look. “Perhaps I could assist you. Did you bring any work with you?”
“Yeah, I did.” Marianna tucked her math textbook back into her backpack but made no move to retrieve anything else. Straightening back up, Marianna met Alna’s pale blue eyes, trying to convey a silent message. Alna must have received it because she pushed her chair back and stood up.
“Looks like a good read,” Mr. Holt commented, handing Alna her book back. His free hand was stirring the soup on the stove, and Marianna admired his ability to multitask.
“Indeed, it does,” Alna agreed. “I’m looking forward to reading it.”
That said, Alna informed her father that she and Marianna would be downstairs for the next little while, and followed her down the stairway.
“Any new cases?” Marianna asked as she and Alna entered her bedroom. She tried not to sound too eager.
Alna sighed. “Nothing.” She placed her bag down next to the desk and crouched down to retrieve her laptop.
“Oh,” Marianna said, unable to mask her disappointment. She felt more than a little guilty for wanting a case for them to solve. It wasn’t as though she wished harm on people. But solving the “accidental deaths” with Alna… Well, it felt significant. Even if she never got to tell anyone about her part in Ms. Smith’s arrest.
It was a good thing Ms. Smith was arrested before trying to do something to her and Alna. That had been a concern.
Presently, Alna shot her a brief smile as she stowed the simple black bag in her closet. Marianna wondered how she had explained its presence when she announced she was going to the library. She supposed it looked like an oversized purse to some people.
“Of course, it is a good thing,” Alna admitted as she settled down next to Marianna, “that I am not finding anything of truly dire circumstances. It means fewer people are being harmed.”
“Yeah,” Marianna agreed, shifting so that her back rested against Alna’s wall. A quick glance upward revealed that the equations above her head were even longer than last time.
In the comfortable silence that followed, Marianna took a moment to observe Alna. There were hints of bags under her eyes: faint, grey semi-circles that were almost unnoticeable unless one was looking for them.
Alna’s eyes didn’t appear bloodshot, but there was a certain heaviness to them born from exhaustion. There was also a tightness to her mouth that displayed her frustration.
“You’ve been eating, right?” Marianna asked, both needing to know the answer and not wanting to overstep boundaries. Surely, now that Ms. Smith was in jail, Alna could relax a little. Even as she thought it, Marianna doubted such a thing would happen. At the very least, Alna could start taking better care of herself, though.
Alna seemed to relax at that.
“I have been rather neglectful of my basic needs.” She watched Marianna’s reaction carefully.
“Alna,” Marianna sighed, eyes squeezing shut in frustration. She knew Alna wasn’t forgetting to eat or drink, per se. She’d told Marianna about her eidetic memory. Still, Alna had a frustrating habit of neglecting her own basic needs.
“I shall eat a sufficient dinner in less than an hour,” Alna assured her. She paused before adding, “I picked up a small snack on my way home.”
That last comment made up Marianna’s mind to take up Aiden on his offer to stay for dinner, if for no other reason than to make sure Alna made good on her promise. She didn’t want to become a controlling or overbearing girlfriend, but it seemed like Alna needed prompting from an outside source occasionally. Since Marianna was the only one aware of what Alna did in her free time, it might as well be her.
Marianna intended to voice her decision to stay for dinner, only to be beaten by Alna, who said, “Let me see your science homework.”
She gave Alna a blank look. Alna sure knew how to leave her reeling when she changed subjects without warning. “You were serious about that?”
Alna’s signature wry look settled onto her features. “Yes, I was. If you think you could use some assistance, then I’m willing to help you.”
Marianna eyed her sceptically. “Don’t you want to do more research or something?”
A displeased look crossed Alna’s face. “I have spent a good portion of my day hacking into security cameras. Even I need a break at times.”
“True enough,” Marianna agreed, bending to open the backpack she had dropped on Alna’s floor. She wasn’t sure if tutoring her girlfriend counted as a break, but she’d take it.
“I’m taking physics,” Marianna explained as she flipped through her textbook. “The math part of it is okay, but sometimes I have a hard time with the terminology and the relationships between things.”
Alna nodded her head in understanding, and pulled the textbook into her lap, starting to scan it as Marianna opened her binder. Marianna observed her out of the corner of her eye.
“Are you sure you’ll understand all of this?” She felt bad for asking, but she had a legitimate reason. “I mean,” she added, “have you ever taken physics?”
“I did when I was still in high school,” Alna replied, flipping a page. “There is a distinct possibility that I will be able to assist you.”
Marianna looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, taking in the subtle signs of weariness––which, now that she thought about it, had become much more visible once they were alone.
“Okay. But after, you need to rest.”
***
It wasn’t until the next day (Thursday) that anything noteworthy happened. Marianna was sitting in Ms. Reading’s social studies class, drifting somewhere between giving into her boredom and paying attention, when her phone vibrated. The movement was so unexpected that Marianna jumped a little.
People tended not to text her during class time, seeing as her friends were responsible enough not to do so, and Alna valued education too much to ever dare interrupt Marianna’s learning. Marianna’s parents had texted her few times in the past few weeks, but that had been to ensure she was in class.
Blaze cast a sidelong look at Marianna as she slid her hand into the pocket of her jeans, soon extracting her phone. He raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint appearing in his eyes before turning back to the front of the class. As Ms. Reading turned toward the PowerPoint she was showing the class, Marianna looked down at her phone, pushing the home button.
The message was from Alna, short but conveying a sense of urgency: I need you to come to my place ASAP. Bring the truck.
Marianna shot another look at Ms. Reading, checking to make sure that the teacher wasn’t looking in her direction. She wasn’t. Probably because she wouldn’t be expecting Marianna, who was a respectful student, to be texting in her class.
Without thinking too much about it, Marianna typed a reply, asking if this was important enough to be skipping school, before pausing. Of course this was important. In the short time she’d known her, Marianna had never pegged Alna as being dramatic. If Alna was texting her now, when she knew Marianna was in class, then it would have to be about something important.
She deleted the message before sending a different one: Coming. Have to pick up the truck first. Be there in a half-hour, tops.
Wasting no time, Marianna straightened up in her seat and stretched her arm high, waiting for Ms. Reading to acknowledge her. If she didn’t within the next thirty seconds, Marianna told herself, she’d leave the room regardless.
Luckily, Ms. Reading noticed her, and turned to Marianna with a “Yes, Marianna?”
“May I go to the washroom?” Marianna asked, making sure she used “may” instead of “can” or “could.” Just in case Ms. Reading decided to get picky.
The teacher’s lips thinned with obvious displeasure. However, despite her chagrin, Ms. Reading gave her permission, and Marianna shot out of her desk, soon exiting the classroom in record time.
Marianna resisted the urge to break out into a flat-out sprint. The last thing she needed right now was to get roadblocked for running in school hallways.
Having chosen her course deliberately, Marianna stopped at her locker to grab her wallet. She thanked God she took it so she could buy lunch from the cafeteria today.
By the time Marianna was outside the school, standing in the cool fall air, she had already called for a cab and was waiting for it as she resisted the urge to pace.
Ten minutes later Marianna was in the back of the cab, being driven to an auto repair shop. The truck Marianna normally drove had been taken there yesterday to get a minor problem with the engine repaired. Mom noticed the slight issue when she was driving it the other day and had taken it in to get fixed.
Marianna drummed her fingers against her knee. When the cab driver announced they had arrived, she paid with her debit card, shoving the device at the poor man once done.
It took her less than ten minutes to pay for and retrieve the truck. By the time Marianna pulled in front of the Holt house, a little over fifty minutes had passed, and Alna was standing on the front deck.
“I’m so sorry I’m late,” Marianna said in a rush as Alna climbed into the passenger seat. “The cab took longer than I expected it to, and––”
“It’s no matter.” Alna sounded irritated. Instead of putting on her seatbelt upon sitting down, Alna placed her laptop on her lap and opened it. “I want to show you what we’re dealing with.”
Marianna had been meaning to ask what this was about, or something like: Shouldn’t we be hurrying right now?
She stifled her questions and leaned over to peer at the screen as Alna brought up security footage. The location shown was a business street, evidenced by the shops on the side of the road, and the people milling about.
Spotting the woman was easy, what with her vivid red hair that reminded Marianna of Ms. Smith’s. Marianna couldn’t see her face, but Mr. Cope was unmistakable. Marianna had only seen his photo a few times, but his face stayed in her memory. He was a white man, with a small scar on his jaw that Alna thought might be from a previous knife fight. Mr. Cope appeared healthy, if a bit too thin, which Alna said was likely a result of a smoking habit. His hair was brown.
Forcing herself to look away from Mr. Cope, Marianna turned her attention to the red-haired woman. “Is that––”
“It’s not Smith,” Alna interrupted.
Her face was hard, reminding Marianna of a statue, except for the way Alna’s jaw seemed to clench and then relax for a fraction of a second, betraying her agitation. She pulled up an image of a woman who was not Daysie Smith. This woman seemed to have a lighter skin tone compared to Ms. Smith and more freckles. When Marianna thought about it, she couldn’t recall Ms. Smith having any freckles at all. Not only that, but she looked younger: about thirty, with only a few age lines showing on her youthful face. Alna had pulled up this picture on the police files, but this was not a mug shot, as she had expected. For one, the woman was smiling, gazing at the camera with a playful smirk as she sat on some wooden steps leading to a white door.
“Evie Hearst,” Alna said, switching back to the security camera, the footage still paused. “I, quite literally, ran into her on my way to interview Baily Quinton.” She gave Marianna a significant look. “The day you saw me in my disguise.”
“Oh,” Marianna said, staring at the computer screen. And then, “Oh.” She leaned forward, noting that the sun had more or less disappeared behind the clouds. “Her hair is the right colour for the strand I found in Ms. Wilks’s place.” Ms. Smith’s hair seemed, to Marianna, to look like the colour of cherries. So did Evie Hearst’s.
Marianna’s head was spinning. She gave Alna a wild look.
“Yes,” Alna said, impatient. She handed Marianna a worn, folded piece of white paper. The list Jian had given Alna Halloween night. Marianna hadn’t even known she’d kept it.
“And that boy, Jian, wrote that a woman with red hair had bought a propane tank,” Alna explained. Despite the matter-of-fact way she said it, Marianna thought she detected a note of exasperation in Alna’s voice. She got the impression it was aimed at Alna herself.
“Now,” Alna announced, tapping a key on her laptop. “If you would.” She started the video up again.
Marianna watched in silence as Ms. Hearst stopped on the sidewalk to talk to Mr. Cope. Alna fast-forwarded through most of the conversation and eventually paused it.
“I want you to watch Cope’s right hand here,” Alna ordered, casting a brief, sidelong look at Marianna. She chose not to answer and instead focused all her attention on the footage.
“See here.” Alna pointed at the screen, Mr. Cope was resting his hand on Ms. Hearst’s elbow. “Cope intends for this to seem like a friendly gesture. But if you watch carefully…”
Marianna listened to Alna’s narration with half an ear, using it as background information as Mr. Cope’s right hand disappeared from the camera’s view. Presumably to reach inside of Ms. Hearst’s purse.
He was reaching for her EpiPen, which treated allergic reactions, Alna explained. Evie Hearst was deathly allergic to peanuts. Ironically, the same day Ms. Smith had been arrested, Ms. Hearst had somehow ingested some peanuts from a muffin at a café. By the time the ambulance had arrived, she’d been dead.
“So Mr. Cope and Ms. Hearst were working together, and he killed her. We were wrong about Ms. Smith,” Marianna said, an odd sensation washing over her as she sat back. She felt dizzy and exhilarated at the same time. Of course, Alna had done most of the “detecting” over the past three or so weeks. But knowing that they’d found the real killer… Well, she didn’t know how it felt. Marianna would have to think about that later.
“Daysie Smith is no less a killer, even if she was not the one we were looking for,” Alna said, probably thinking of the death of Mason Davis, who had died by “accidentally” electrocuting himself in his own home. This had happened the day after their talk with Ms. Smith.
“I believe it is time to end this,” Alna added, her voice subdued.
Snapping out of her stupor, Marianna muttered a quick “Right” and checked her surroundings before pulling onto the road. She still had so many questions (like why Mr. Cope would kill his partner), but that could wait until later.
The two fell into relative silence after that, broken only by Alna’s voice as she directed Marinna to a payphone. According to Alna, the Brigate Crime Hotline allowed its callers anonymity, but Alna had once admitted to being a little paranoid. Thus, the payphone.
As they drove on, the silence became tense––at least for Marianna. She ended up breaking it with: “Can I ask you something?”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Alna turn to face her. “You may. You don’t need to ask for my permission.”
“Why did you wait for me after you found the footage?” Marianna asked, peering at the light up ahead and hoping it would stay green. “I mean, why didn’t you call the hotline as soon as you saw it?”
Alna was quiet for a moment. Marianna could almost feel the glacial eyes fixed on her face.
“Call it maudlin,” Alna responded after a moment, “but I want you to be there.” Another brief pause, then: “You and I have been working on this together for weeks; I thought we should end it together.”
Marianna wasn’t embarrassed to admit that Alna’s admission warmed her, and she could have sworn her heart fluttered. A wide smile appeared on her face as they arrived in an older-looking part of the city. Which made sense, she supposed, if they were looking for an out-of-date payphone.
As Alna continued to talk again, Marianna only half-listened, focusing on her driving.
“It makes sense, of course. Murders like the ones we’ve been seeing lately would be fairly difficult to pull off alone. I will have to––”
Alna stopped abruptly, and as Marianna drove slowly by a seedy-looking gas station, a payphone coming into view, she risked a glance at her girlfriend. She looked stricken.
“Marianna,” Alna said in a strained voice. “I have made a terrible miscalculation.”
“What is it, Alna?” Marianna asked, alarmed. “What––”
And suddenly the wheel jerked, sending the car to the right, toward the gas station.
“Marianna!” Alna called in alarm as the truck sped up against her violation. She felt a weight against her side as Alna grasped the wheel.
“It’s not working!” Marianna yelped, trying to turn the wheel, to pump the brake, do something. “I can’t control it!”
Her blood roared in her ears. The building got closer. Everything blurred.
Alna shouted something, her voice high with panic.
The building loomed even closer.
And then––
Nothing.