Principal Gregory pokes her head inside my math class and clears her throat.

Mr. Timball stops his geometry lecture; his marker pauses against the dry erase board. He raises his eyebrows in a silent. What do you want?

“I need to see Sarah Jackson,” she answers, scanning the rows of students until she finds me in the back. Her eyes lock on mine. “Now.”

I feel every single set of eyes boring inquisitive holes into my skull as I slide out my chair and make my way to the front of the room. Thirty heads swivel around, gazes following me like some weird slow synchronized dance from an eighties music video.

“Grab your things,” Principal Gregory says when she sees my hands are empty. I nod. Grabbing my things means that whatever she’s calling me to her office for is going to take a while because I won’t be back to class today, at least not this one.

A foreboding pricks at the back of my neck, and it’s not from all the eyes watching my every move. It’s the dread pitting in my stomach and a feeling like everything is about to change.

Again.

I gather my bag and my books and wrack my brain as to what school-related thing this could be about, but I come up empty.

I make my way to the front of the room for the second time. Only the tapping of a pencil against a desk and the popping of gum can be heard along with the echo of my shapeless black shoes against the linoleum.

Principal Gregory holds the door open, and I follow her silently to her office with my head down and my long hair draped around my face like a shield.

She allows me to go in first, and it’s not until my knees have brushed one of the two chairs in front of her desk that I look up to see a police officer standing at the window with his broad back to me. Colorful tattoos take up every inch of space on his arms. His long dark hair is tied together at the nape of his neck under his hat. I feel like I know this man, somehow, or maybe it’s just deja vu.

Regardless, I begin to relax. I have no business with the police. Not that they could possibly know of, anyway. Whatever the officer is here for is probably just a misunderstanding of some sort.

Maybe, it’s about one of my neighbors. One side is a drug den, and the other side is occupied by a couple who fight all hours of the day and night and scream more than they talk. It’s more likely that one killed the other and they’re looking for witnesses than me being in any sort of trouble.

Or so I think.

“I’ll leave you two alone to discuss this matter,” Principal Gregory says, reminding me of her presence. “I’ll be here to escort you out when you’re ready.” She flashes me a tight-lipped smile. An apology.

The officer waits until the door clicks shut to turn around to face me. I recognize him instantly as the man from the service station. Only now I can see his face more clearly. His dark gleaming eyes. The scar above his right eye. I’m intrigued by him the same way I was when I first spotted him.

The officer puts his hands on his belt and smirks. I return his smile, but drop it just as quickly when he speaks, his voice deep and raspy. “Hello, Frankie.”

My heart stops. My blood turns to ice. I can’t swallow. I can’t breathe.

He used my real name. He used my real fucking name.

I drop my books on the floor and dart back toward the door. I open my mouth to scream, but before a single sound escapes, he’s on me, covering my mouth with a hand that’s so large it covers most of my face. He pulls me back from the door, my hand still outstretched toward the handle that’s growing further and further away as he pulls me back. Tears prick at the back of my eyes, both from fright and from not being able to draw enough oxygen in through my nose.

My thoughts scramble together and bounce off the inside of my skull as my pulse spikes, and I grow dizzier and dizzier.

“Scream, and you’ll die,” he warns, his deep voice digging its way into my bones. “Make any noise at all, and you’ll die. Cross me, and you’ll fucking die.”

Something hard pokes me in my lower back. It only takes one glance at the reflection in the framed United States flag above Principal Gregory’s desk to see that the hard something he’s pressing into my spine is a gun.

This can’t be happening. Not now. Not yet. I made promises. I have things to finish.

I struggle against him, but he only pulls me tighter against his hard, massive chest. He pulls on my arm and cuffs my wrist behind my back with one hand while the other stays firmly over my mouth. I pull my wrist away but am only rewarded with a yanking of my other hand and a tightening off the cuffs as the other is wrenched behind my back.

His lips are next to my ear. Never have whispered words carried such warning.

“You can either walk out of here with me SILENTLY and without incident or you can scream and call for help. Either way, you’ll still be leaving this school with me. One way is neat and clean. Nobody gets hurt. The other will have me shooting our way out. Everyone gets hurt. Your choice, hellion. You understand?” he asks.

When I don’t answer, he yanks on my cuffs, pulling me away from the wall. “You understand?”

I nod because I’m too afraid to speak. This man’s threat is as real as the sky is fucking blue.

“Let’s go,” he barks, tugging me toward the door.

My knees give out, and I feel myself sagging. The man isn’t having it. He roughly hauls me to my feet before I hit the floor.

“Walk,” he demands, shoving me forward.

He has me. He has me, and I have no choice but to comply. There’s no way I will allow innocent people to be hurt when this man is obviously only here for me. The door opens, and the hand over my mouth disappears. I swallow a huge gulp of air, forcing much needed oxygen back into my lungs.

Principal Gregory’s standing outside the door. Her eyes go to my tear-stained cheeks first and then the handcuffs now binding my wrists together behind my back. “Is there anyone you’d like me to call for you, Miss Jackson?” she asks. “Your father, perhaps?”

The man tightens his grip around my bicep in warning.

“That won’t be necessary,” he answers for me. “Her father is already waiting for us at the station.”

Principal Gregory nods her understanding, easily believing the lie. She shoots me a sympathetic look as she leads us through the hallway. Students part like the Red Sea to give us room to pass. I don’t know what she thinks I’ve done to deserve being arrested, but it’s the least of my worries.

I keep my eyes on the floor. Whispers and quiet laughter follow closely behind. We exit through the glass front doors, and Principal Gregory follows us to the police cruiser waiting at the curb.

“Have your father call me,” Principal Gregory says with so much sadness in her voice I feel like I should be the one comforting her.

The fake police officer shoves me into the backseat of the police cruiser and slams the door. Again, I remain silent.

“Hey! Where are you taking her? What happened? What the fuck’s going on?” someone calls out.

I freeze as I recognize Duke’s voice.

No. No. No. I chant in my head.

I glance out the corner of my eye through a part in my hair. Principal Gregory has her hand flat on Duke’s chest, preventing him from coming any closer. She shakes her head and guides him back up the stairs into the school.

“Sarah!” he calls over his shoulder. “Sarah!”

I say nothing as the car pulls away from the school. Away from my life.

It isn’t a real life, but it’s all I have.

HAD.

It’s not just my life that’s over.

I may have spared the lives of the people in that school with my silence, but if I can’t complete my work, others will die.

The only question now is, how many?