Ashley was the one who started the story about Sarah. How had I not known that?
I’d never been sure exactly how the myth began. I’d just assumed that it started and ended with that cross necklace the police had found in the bathroom. That they assumed it was Sarah’s, given her family and church connections, but I’d thought the rest of the story had just been spun out of a real-life game of telephone, passed around town, getting bigger and bigger until Sarah became a saintlike figure.
But Ashley had started it all. She’d overheard something and, in all of the chaos, thought it was Sarah. But I knew it hadn’t been. Because I’d been with Sarah, squeezed into a stall, looking her right in the eye. I’d been so focused on her, on the sound of my heartbeat, that I hadn’t remembered hearing anything else around us.
Now I knew that, for Kellie, it hadn’t just been about some necklace. It had been about her words. Her words given to someone else. She’d been branded a liar not just about that piece of jewelry but about the way she’d used her voice. She’d been made an outcast and her words had been used to make Sarah a hero.
Don’t judge me for saying this, but while Ashley’s letter made me feel worse for Kellie, it also made me feel a little relieved. Because it meant this whole thing wasn’t entirely my fault for not speaking up. I still felt guilty, of course. I’ll probably always feel guilty. But Ashley’s assumptions about what she’d overheard were to blame, too.
But the main thing Ashley’s letter did was reaffirm my decision to try and get the truth out there.
Not everyone was on board for that, though.
Miles spotted the note tucked beneath my windshield wiper before I did. We were leaving school on a Tuesday afternoon in early April. I’d stayed after class to get help from my English teacher. We were reading Othello, and despite my love of theater, Shakespeare was still kind of out of my depth. I was hoping to get some clarity on a few passages I’d highlighted.
Miles had waited for me in the cafeteria, and once I was done, we headed out to the student parking lot together. It was nearly empty.
“You’ve got a note,” Miles said, pointing to the folded piece of paper on my windshield.
“Weird.” I unfolded it. The handwriting was large and the letters were round. Miles shifted next to me, coming to read over my shoulder.
Leanne,
I’m sorry I missed you. I was hoping we could have a chat. Come by the church sometime or give me a call.
Brother Lloyd
“Why was he at the school?” Miles asked.
I folded up the note and shoved it into my pocket. “No idea. Maybe he’s doing something with the Fellowship of Christian Students.”
“Don’t they meet in the mornings?”
I shrugged.
“It sounds like he was waiting for you,” Miles said. “That’s creepy.”
“I’m sure it’s fine,” I said. Honestly, I was far less freaked out about the idea of Brother Lloyd waiting in the school parking lot than I was about why he was waiting. If he wanted to talk to me, that meant Sarah’s parents had probably told him what had happened at their house a couple weeks earlier.
Brother Lloyd was the preacher at Virgil County Baptist. Even though I didn’t go to church there, I’d met him several times. He’d officiated Ashley’s wedding and spoken at the funerals of several of the shooting victims. Including Sarah’s.
He’d seemed like a nice enough guy, if a little pushy. Growing up, anytime he’d seen Sarah and me together, he’d tried very hard to convince me to join their congregation, something I know embarrassed Sarah, who’d made a point to never pressure me about church stuff. And even though I never did join their church, he was still very friendly whenever we crossed paths.
Somehow I didn’t think this was just a social call, though. He wanted to talk about Sarah, and I doubted we’d be in agreement during that conversation.
“You gonna call him?” Miles asked as we climbed into my truck.
“No. I think he just wants to talk about what I told the McHales.”
“Mm.”
“Speaking of,” I said as I turned the truck out of the parking lot. “Have you thought any more about that favor I asked you? About writing the letter?”
He sighed. “I dunno, Lee.”
“Come on,” I said. “Denny and Ashley have already done it. And Eden’s going to. Please.”
“No one wants to hear what I’ve got to say.”
“I do.”
He frowned and looked away, the conversation clearly over, whether I liked it or not. For the most part, Miles had gotten his anger under control. But I knew that old fury was still inside of him. If he was pushed too far, it might awaken. I wasn’t in the mood for an argument, so I let it go for the moment. We could come back to it later.
We would come back to it later.
Once we were parked in my driveway, I slid out of the truck and was halfway up the steps when Miles said my name. I turned back and saw him, still standing by my truck.
“Be careful,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
He shrugged. “I dunno. This Brother Lloyd dude and the McHales … just be careful, okay? Don’t get chased out of town or anything.”
“That’s not going to happen, Miles.”
And I was right. It didn’t happen. Not exactly. But still. Maybe I should’ve listened to him.