Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 128083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
The elevator door opened, and he got off, wading through what was now a sea of cameras emblazoned with news logos.
“Excuse me, sir?” a brunette reporter called, rushing toward him. “Do you know the Cortlandt family? What’s your name?”
Rex turned his face and sped up, racing toward the door, aware of the fact that he didn’t belong here. He wasn’t even entirely sure why he’d come in the first place. Like everywhere else in his life, he didn’t belong.
Rex took up a jog again, and the newscaster fell behind.
Chapter Ten
Rex had absolutely no interest in memorizing the poetry of English poets of the Romantic era. And by the groans traveling around the room, neither did any of his classmates. He glanced over at the empty seat on the far left of the room, his stomach twisting at the knowledge of why its usual occupant was currently missing. It’d been four days since he’d seen Cami Cortlandt in that hospital hallway, beaten and broken, her eyes emotionally vacant, and all he’d heard were the whispers of his peers and the information the news was sharing.
The media had descended on their small town. Just the day before, he’d thought he’d seen a van with the Dateline logo drive by.
The man who’d gotten away, the one only known as “AJ,” had thus far continued to evade capture. A car had evidently been left in the Cortlandt garage, but he’d heard it had come back stolen. The other assailant, who was found dead at the scene, hadn’t yet been identified, though apparently both had left DNA evidence behind that was currently being tested.
DNA evidence. The phrase made him cringe. He was pretty sure he could figure from where that DNA evidence had been collected. He massaged his neck. It was difficult to even consider the horror that family had experienced. And he couldn’t stop seeing Cami’s battered face. The entire community was struggling, and police were working overtime to come up with answers that would assure the citizens of their town that they need not fear something as horrific happening to one of them.
And here they were reading Romantic poetry.
Not that the school hadn’t done what it could to support the students. They’d brought in extra counselors and, the night before, had held a candlelight vigil for Farrah and Eleanor Cortlandt. They’d started a GoFundMe for Cami and her father, which seemed unnecessary considering they were already rich, but he supposed it would help with medical bills, or maybe they’d use it to do something in honor of those they’d lost. Mostly, he thought, it was being done so people had a way to show their support and sorrow.
Mr. Cortlandt was still in the hospital, where he was healing from his injuries, but where Cami was, or who she was staying with, he didn’t know.
He wanted to ask Hollis about her, but he didn’t think that was a good idea. And the guy might not even know anyway if he was still “giving her time.”
Rex grieved for her, but it was all he could do. He hadn’t really been in her circle of friends, and they’d only ever had one conversation. It wouldn’t be appropriate to reach out to her. And so, Rex had gone to the GoFundMe and donated fifty bucks that would have been better spent on groceries for him and his mom. The gesture was nowhere close to what he’d communicate to Cami if he could, and he felt almost pitiful doing it, but it was better than nothing.
He massaged his head. Or maybe it wasn’t. He didn’t even know.
A knock on the classroom door made him raise his head, and the class watched as the principal, Mr. Garvey, leaned inside, two police officers behind him. Their teacher, Mrs. Sachs, approached the door, and she and the principal spoke in whispered voices for a moment before she looked back. Her eyes met Rex’s and she gestured to him as anxiety buzzed under his skin.
Rex stood and began to walk toward the door after the principal said, “Gather your things, please.”
The anxiety increased. He picked up his notepad and pen, dropping the pad on the floor to a small chorus of muffled laughter. He scooped up both things and stuffed them in his backpack. Rex heard the hum of conversation as he made his way up the row and walked toward the door. His face felt hot, the weight of the stares causing his limbs to feel stiff and uncoordinated.
They all stepped out into the hallway and moved away from the door. “These officers have some questions for you, Rex.”
He looked back and forth between Mr. Garvey and the officers. “O-okay. What about?”
“You’re a person of interest in the Cortlandt murders,” one of the officers said, watching him closely. Rex’s face now felt hot, leaving him momentarily dizzy.