The Inmate

by Freida McFadden

Shane opens his mouth to protest again, but the words are drowned out by another scream: “Brooke!” We get out of the room and run into Kayla and Tim at the top of the stairs. They both look like they’ve thrown on their clothes as hastily as we did. I wonder what they’ve been doing in there. Hopefully, mostly sleeping. “You heard that?” Tim asks. Kayla is clinging to his arm. Shane nods solemnly. We all look downstairs, and even from the second floor, we can see that the front door is wide open. Droplets of rain are dampening the carpet right inside the door. “Chelsea,” I murmur. It had to have been Chelsea who screamed. Because it wasn’t Kayla and it wasn’t me, so Chelsea is the only one left. But why would she call my name? Why wouldn’t she call for Brandon if something was wrong? Unless… If Brandon did anything to hurt her, I’m going to kill him. Shane starts down the stairs first, taking them two at a time. Tim goes next, and I’m third. Kayla hangs behind, a distant fourth. I don’t blame her. She’s not great friends with any of us, and if there’s trouble, she probably doesn’t want to get involved. Shane reaches the front door first. He hangs onto the door frame, leaning out onto the small porch. Then he sees something that makes his eyes go wide, and he takes a step back.