Emma sighed and leaned her head against Ethan’s shoulder. “I mean . . . he doesn’t have a way to prove it. But what if he catches me in a lie? What if he figures something out?”

Ethan’s eyes narrowed. “The only way he could know for sure is if he did it. I still say he’s suspicious.”

She shook her head impatiently. “Thayer was on his way to the hospital when Sutton died. There’s no way he could have gotten back to the canyon with a broken leg. He was probably high on painkillers by that point anyway.”

Ethan gave a noncommittal snort, which she took to mean “Okay-fine-he-has-an-alibi-but-I-don’t-have-to-like-it.” She opened her mouth to tell him how desperate Thayer had seemed to know the truth, how he really just wanted to know if it was the girl he loved at the bottom of that canyon, but before she could speak, Ethan’s gaze shifted. He was staring at something out the window.

“Look!” he hissed. She turned to look where he was pointing.

Garrett and Celeste had appeared on the soccer field. Emma couldn’t hear a word through the glass, but it was obvious they were shouting at each other. Celeste kept shaking her head no, her long blonde braids dancing around her head. Garrett’s face was an ugly red, screwed up in rage. He shook his hands violently in front of her, looking like he wanted to strangle her.

I knew that expression. I knew that face. It surprised me, how familiar it suddenly was. New memories floated hazily to the surface. I remembered his mood swings, his bad temper. I remembered him punching a locker and leaving a dent in the metal, walking away from me in a rage. I remembered how his fingers left spots of blood on the clean linoleum behind him.

“Wow,” Emma breathed. They both watched as Celeste threw one hand up dismissively, then turned to walk back toward the school. Garrett stood staring after her for a long moment, his chest heaving with anger. Then he turned away and stormed off across the field, toward the small cedar grove that separated campus from the busy street beyond.

“That was . . . intense,” Ethan said uncertainly.

“Now’s our chance,” Emma said, straightening up. Ethan frowned.

“Our chance for what?” he asked, but she glanced up and down the empty hall, not answering. She grabbed Ethan’s hand and hurried down the hall to where the senior lockers were.

Garrett’s locker was in a cul-de-sac around the corner from a Coke machine. It was obvious which was his—the good-luck sign the soccer boosters had made for the finals still hung there proudly in red and gold glitter letters. Emma walked quickly to it and examined the lock.

“What are you doing?” Ethan whispered.

“What we should have done a long time ago,” she said, setting her jaw. “You keep a lookout, okay?”