“Then don’t.” She glances back. “Come or don’t come. The choice is yours. You won’t be given the opportunity again.”

Panic flutters in my chest as I recall what Mr. Webster said about how the gang was creating unrest. “If you’re trying to scare me, I’m not scared,” I say. “There isn’t anyone following me.”

“If you are so certain of that, why are you whispering?” she asks.

She’s right. I am. I was. I straighten my shoulders and at a normal volume say, “The police are looking for you. I can turn you in.”

“You can try.” She gives me a sad smile and shakes her head. “Twelve thirty. If you don’t come, we’ll understand that you wish to live your life as it is now. You will not be judged.” She disappears around the garage, and I drop my bike and follow in time to watch her run toward the chain-link fence beyond, leap, and gracefully vault over the five-foot-tall barrier. She lands in a crouch on the other side, and when she comes up, she winks in my direction before racing down the alley and out of sight without my saying another word.

For several heartbeats, I can do nothing but replay the exit in my mind. By then it is too late to chase her. And really, there’s no point. The woman isn’t going to tell me anything that will answer my questions. Instead, she and whoever is behind this group want to lure me away from my neighborhood back to the heart of the city—alone.

Which is insane. All of this—the paper, the woman, the insinuation that someone followed me here, the vault over the fence—is unbelievable. I climb on my bike and pedal home, zigzagging down different streets from the ones I used on my way. Every few seconds I look over my shoulder, and while there are cars driving along and people on the sidewalks, none of them pay me any special attention.

I was right. The woman had been trying to freak me out. This was all designed to upset me and my life. My mother would never have wanted this. Whoever this gang was, they had gotten me to trigger an alarm at the school with the mysterious word they found a way to put in my hands. They had made me doubt. That had to have been part of their plan all along, and I fell for it. How stupid was that?

I stash my bike behind the house and head back upstairs, frustration building with every step. Mr. Webster warned me that the group was looking to cause problems. Who knows what would have been in store for me if I had bought into what the gray-haired woman wanted. . . .

From my window, I spot a dark blue car parked across the street. It was the one with the gold-and-silver rims I’d watched Mrs. Johnson’s dog pee on earlier. I’d never noticed that car on the block before today. It hadn’t been there minutes ago when I returned home.