“All right,” I say. “If you think of something, let me know.”

They nod and leave me and Quincy trailing behind.

“They probably don’t know nothing,” Quincy says. “You know how Jamal was. After your dad, it’s hard to get close. If he had something he wanted to share, I’m guessing it’d be with me.”

I nod. It’s true, but I was hoping it wouldn’t be.

Walking into school with Quincy, I can’t help but smile. It feels like we’ve reset our friendship to where we left off years ago.

Dean and Tasha wait by my locker.

“Hey,” I say.

“You’re back,” Tasha says. “Heard you ditched yesterday.”

I see Dean look at me, then Quincy.

“Mom tell you?” I ask Tasha.

“Yeah. You know she’s gonna call me first, but maybe I should tell her to call Quincy next time.” Her response is soft but flat.

“Nah.” Quincy puts a finger up. “I have no claim to what Tracy be doing.”

“I gotta go to class,” I say. “You ready, Dean?”

Dean and I head to math class.

“What was that all about?” Dean asks. “You trying to get back on the track team?”

“Looking for answers for Jamal. They don’t seem to know anything. You hear anything at practice?”

“No one’s talking about it. They know better. Cuddy makes sure of that.” Cuddy is about the size of M’Baku from Black Panther. No one people easily mess with.

We stand in front of math class, not going in quite yet, even though the bell’s about to ring any second.

“What about Scott? You know why he was kicked off the team?” Scott off the team took me by surprise. Now Scott and Chris are hard to get ahold of.

“Not really. He was always complaining.”

“What about Chris, have you seen him?” Scott and Chris are best friends, and Chris arguing with Angela might have more to do with her murder.

“Chris? He’s the last person you should talk to.”

“You can help me, or I’ll do it without you.”

The bell rings and we rush to our seats. Dean shakes his head, but he doesn’t say no.

After class, I head to the newsroom to take another look for any clues about what Angela was working on. When I turn the knob, it’s locked. I’m taken aback. Mr. Kaine has an open-door policy. We’re all on our own schedules trying to meet deadlines.

My backpack buzzes. A text from Jamal. Finally, he’s responding to my question about the memory card.

Can you get access to HM production room?

My thumbs hover over the phone keyboard. I’m not sure how I’ll do it, but I’ll find a way.

Yes! Is that where the SD card is?

Hidden compartment. Near controller desk.

K. What’s on it?