Nobody wants to stay behind in the living room, so we all go together up the steps to the bedrooms. The stairwell is dark, and I cling to the banister to keep from falling. Even though it’s hard to see, I can feel Tim’s presence right next to me, hovering over me with that baseball bat clutched in his right hand.

Kayla had gone back into the bedroom where she and Tim had been sound asleep when Chelsea’s scream woke us all up. At least, that’s what I would deduce based on the fact that it’s the only door that is closed. Chelsea goes first, picking her way carefully down the hallway until she reaches the closed door. After a hesitation, she raps her fist against it.

No answer.

“Kayla?” Chelsea calls out. “Are you okay?”

Again, no answer.

Chelsea clears her throat. “We won’t try to come in. We just want you to tell us you’re all right.” She pauses. “Kayla?”

In the slit of light coming in through the upstairs windows, I can see Tim looking at me. My eyes meet his, and he shakes his head. I can hear the bat shifting in his hand.

Chelsea turns to us. “She’s not answering. What should we do?”

“The door doesn’t have a lock,” Shane says.

“I…” Chelsea’s voice trembles. “I can’t do this.”

Before there can be any more debate, Shane pushes past her. There’s a creaking noise as the knob twists open, and a second later, the door to the room swings open.

Even though it’s dark in the room, it’s lighter than it was in the hallway, so our eyes are already adjusted. Which means I’m able to make out details I wouldn’t be able to otherwise. Like the bookcase in the corner. Or the bed in the center of the room.

Or Kayla lying on the bed, her chest covered in fresh blood, her eyes staring up at the ceiling.

Chapter 29

PRESENT DAY

Mr. Fanning has a broken finger.

I don’t know how he got the broken finger. I asked him before I sent him over to radiology for an x-ray, but he was squirrelly about the details. The x-ray showed a fracture of the middle phalanx of his little finger, and I called the radiology department at the local hospital that provides official reports of our x-rays to confirm that the fracture didn’t go through a joint and wasn’t displaced. It looks like a simple fracture—one that can be treated easily with buddy taping.

After I get off the phone with radiology, I emerge from the examining room to find Mr. Fanning sitting in one of the plastic chairs in the hallway, joking around with Officer Hunt. Hunt is outright hostile to most of the inmates, so I’m surprised to see him on good terms with Fanning.