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Teddy Marshall’s shoes. Teddy lay face-up between the rows, his feet breaching the aisle. My heart leaped into my throat. I pulled myself to my knees. Whispered his name and reached for his hand. It was nothing but cold when I touched it.

The green light emanated from his right arm. A cluster of glow-in-the-dark stars—the kind they sold in the gift shop downstairs—stuck to his forearm. They twisted into a shape. A number. Five.

I pushed myself farther into the aisle toward his face, wedging myself between his shoulders and the seats. His glasses hung askew inside a clear plastic bag that clung to the opening of his nostrils and stuck in his mouth. The plastic sucked tight over his face—and didn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. The bag was knotted at Teddy’s throat, tied with his own shoelace. I reached out to tear it, to rip it away from his face. Breathe, Teddy, breathe!

A dark hand shot in front of me before I could reach the bag. A glove clamped over my mouth and I screamed into it. Bucking and kicking, I grappled with the arms around my chest. They dragged me down the aisle, away from Teddy, pushed me against the tunnel wall, and cupped my mouth tight. My breath raced in and out my nose, whistling over the leather glove.

“What the hell are you doing here?” The voice was deep and angry, but familiar. Reece released his grip. “You shouldn’t be here.” He peered anxiously down the mouth of the tunnel before bringing the full force of his gaze back to mine.

“Teddy Marshall is in there. He’s dead!”

“I know. And you can’t be here when they find him!” He grabbed me under the arm and pulled me toward the exit. I planted my feet.

“What do you mean, you know he’s in there?”

He jerked a furious finger toward the door. “In a few minutes this place is going to be crawling with cops. We’ve got to get out of here. Now.”

“We can’t just leave him here! We have to do something!”

“There’s nothing we can do for him. He’s gone, Leigh. But if we don’t get out of here now, you’re on your own.” His face was cold and impatient. He waited two beats, then headed for the door, dragging me with him. He flung it open and I squinted against the flood of light as the doors whispered shut behind us.

I tugged against the pull of his hand, and started to turn back for the theater, but he was right. There wasn’t time. Blue uniforms shuffled past. Security guards and chaperones swept through the exhibits, calling Teddy’s name. I followed Reece into an elevator. He pounded the lobby button with his fist.

“We go fast. You do what I say and no one will see you.” Reece crossed the elevator toward me, his body arched possessively over mine with his back to the doors to shield me from view. He was hot and damp under the heavy leather, his sweat fetid with fear. The doors slid open to the first floor and he held the doors with one hand, and glanced over his shoulder.

“Come on.” He hustled me under one arm, tucking me in close to his body. I tried to look behind me, at the planetarium gallery over our heads, heart tearing with every step, but Reece snapped me around, directing me with a hand at the small of my back and clipped commands no one else could hear.

Turn left, go right, head for the exit.

We threw the doors open and stepped out onto Independence Avenue, breaking apart the second we hit the stairs. Reece grabbed my hand and dragged me behind him with quick strides, dipping between two parked tour buses. His bike was there, illegally parked between them.

“Put this on.” He practically threw the helmet at me as he straddled the bike and started the engine. “Hurry!”

I didn’t move. “But Teddy . . .”

“We’ve got to get out of here,” he pleaded from the bike. His eyes widened as he looked over my shoulder. I turned back toward the museum, torn. A traffic cop was staring, heading toward us.

“Now, Leigh!” Reece revved the engine.

I snapped the chin strap and jumped on behind him. The bike roared and I threw my arms around his waist as we leaped into traffic, weaving between buses and cabs until the museum fell away. An ambulance flew past, heading toward the museum, but Teddy was already gone.

29

Reece took me to a parking space near a grassy peninsula just north of the runway at Reagan National Airport. He set the kickstand, and headed toward the river’s edge without a word. I plodded after him, tears streaming down my face.

Reece took off his jacket and spread it on the ground. He lowered himself to one side and gently patted the spot next to him. I didn’t move, so he tugged my sleeve, and I dropped down beside him. Runway lights blinked red across the inlet. He stared at them, forearms resting on his knees while I wiped my nose on my sleeve.

“How did you know?” I clenched my jaw, afraid I’d start crying again. There wasn’t enough room inside me for my anger and grief.

Reece reached into his jacket, unfolding Teddy’s yellow permission slip, and the ragged edges of the Missed Connections ad tucked inside. I snatched them away from him.

“These were in my locker!”

He didn’t look at me. “Just add breaking and entering to the long list of things I’m not proud of. I found the field trip flyer and the ad, and figured that’s where you’d gone. I thought I could beat you there on my bike, but I was too late. I saw you run up the stairs. Hell, I could see you on the gallery, but I was stuck in the damn security line and I couldn’t get to you in time.” He dropped his head between his knees. “I owe you an apology. Not just for breaking into your locker. I never should have—”

“It’s okay.” I already knew he regretted kissing me. I didn’t need to hear him say it. His guilt was one more emotion I didn’t have room for. “You don’t need to explain. I know why you’ve been following me.” I watched the shoreline. Tried not to look at the lights that twinkled behind it. Tried not to think of stars.

“How’d you figure it out?” Reece asked softly. His skin glowed faintly pink, the violet and gold sunset casting color across his cheeks. The answer seemed so obvious to me.

“Because insanely hot transfer students don’t ask girls like me to tutor them in chemistry . . . much less ride me to school, buy me dinner, fight my battles, pick my clothes, or hold my hand in public.” I shook my head, giving in to a sad smile.

The one he returned was lopsided, and maybe a little selfconscious. “I think a few people might disagree with you. We’ve convinced the whole school we’re dating. Maybe it’s believable to everyone but you.”

“Don’t. Not now.”

He nudged me gently with his elbow. “Tell me how you really figured it out.”

The leather under my legs was heavy and warm and I wanted to crawl inside it and tell him everything. Instead, I hugged my knees to my chest and told him only what he wanted to know. “It was an accident. I went to the police station to tell them what I knew, and I overheard a conversation I shouldn’t have.”

“What did you know?” he asked quietly.

“The same stuff I already told Nicholson.”

“How’d you know all the stuff you told Nicholson?”

I bristled, and just like that, the urge to confide in him was gone. Like someone turned on a light, and I could see him for who he was. A narc getting paid to snitch on me.