She Lied She Died by Carissa Lynch (book recommendations for young adults txt) 📕

see me anymore. In the beginning, before Chrissy Cornwall confessed, the whole town treated my family like lepers. Like we were the ones who killed her. And even after the confession, the rumors continued for a couple years … my own mom left town because of it. She couldn’t take it anymore. Your mom and I were really close until her parents kept us apart…”

My cheeks flushed red, as I realized I was rambling to a girl who was less than half my age.

She gave me a bewildered look, then lit another cigarette.

“He your ride?” I asked, nodding in the direction her boyfriend went.

“Yeah, but I’m not worried. I’d bet a million bucks he’s still up there waiting for me. Probably spying on us through the trees!” she cupped her hands and shouted. As she turned back around to look at me, she had a big wolfish grin, teeth gleaming, and for a second, she was my best friend reincarnated.

“Why are you out here, Amanda? What are you guys looking for here? Setting up another prank for me, perhaps…”

When she didn’t respond, I went on. “If it’s a place to be alone together, I’m sure there’s more romantic spots than this.” I pointed at the ramshackle trailer.

Amanda snorted. “Pierre’s not my boyfriend. We’re barely even friends, really. We came here to look for the murder weapon. Rumor has it that she buried it here somewhere, or hid it inside the trailer…”

I scoffed at her. “Even if that were true, why do you care? Chrissy was already tried and convicted. She’s served out her time…”

“Yeah, but I hear she’s claiming she’s innocent now. Is that true?” Amanda asked, wide-eyed.

Now it was my time to shrug.

“Well, it doesn’t matter to me either way. But if we found it, can you imagine how much we could sell that fucker for on eBay? What if it’s got her prints and shit on it, or someone else’s … and it’s been here the whole damn time?” Her eyes were bright with manic excitement.

I was shocked by her language and attitude but tried not to show it.

“Don’t you think the cops would have found it by now? Or someone else?” I asked, hesitantly.

Amanda looked toward the ghoulish trailer but didn’t respond. For the first time I noticed a green pack on the ground a few feet away from her.

“That yours?”

Amanda nodded. “I brought it with me. In case we find any evidence. Want to go inside? If Pierre’s too scared to do it, then I’ll do it myself. Unless … unless you’re too scared too?”

I truly was a teenager again—getting teased and peer-pressured. I don’t miss those years, not even a bit.

Every part of me said it was a bad idea. I had no right to be here, and what did I hope to find?

Plus, Adrianna would shit herself if she knew I was helping her daughter break into the county’s private property…

“Sure. Let’s do it,” I said, decidedly.

Chapter Twenty-Two

As Amanda fought to open the front door of the trailer, I stared at the eerie black letters until they blurred before my eyes. TRASH. That’s exactly what people thought of Chrissy back then. And still, nothing has changed, I thought drily. Guilt circled back … I shouldn’t have told her to leave. I overreacted…

“I don’t get it,” Amanda huffed. “Somebody told me that it stays unlocked. Kids have broken in so many times … and I saw some broken windows in the back, but the last thing I want to do is explain to Mom and Dad why I need to get stitches…”

Amanda twisted the knob side to side, then kicked the front door with a childish grunt.

“I thought you’d been here a million times,” I said, unable to hide my amusement.

“Yeah, well, I said what I said. Doesn’t mean it was the truth.”

Oh, how right she is. Just because someone tells us one thing, doesn’t necessarily mean we should believe them.

Lies. People told them for so many reasons—to protect others, to protect themselves … to protect their reputation. How many had I told in my lifetime? And more importantly, how many had my brother told me?

Over the last twenty-four hours, I was starting to suspect that I didn’t know him at all.

“Watch out.” I stepped up to the door. Amanda, reluctantly, took a step back.

The knob turned easily in my hand, but the door wouldn’t budge.

“The frame probably expanded and contracted because of the cool weather,” I breathed, knocking my hip against the side of the door, unsuccessfully.

I froze at the sound of heavy, quick-footed steps coming up fast behind us. As I turned around, I don’t know what I expected—Officer Winslow running down the hill to arrest us, or Amanda’s parents coming to beat me down … or even Chrissy, her ghoulish face like a banshee shrieking in the low-setting fog … but it was only the boy again. As he stepped onto the porch, the sunlight brushing his nose and acne-laden cheeks, I realized he was younger than I’d originally thought. Perhaps Amanda’s age, after all.

“I got this,” he huffed. Suddenly, he rammed his shoulder into the door, immediately screeching with pain as the door gave way with his weight.

“Fuck me,” he moaned, bent over in the entryway, clutching his right shoulder and bent at the knee.

Amanda and I looked at each other, an amused exchange between us.

“Who’s the dummy now?” Amanda teased, stepping inside the pitch-black trailer. I followed her, closing the door a crack behind us, but hesitant to close it all the way.

“Hey, at least I got it open,” Pierre moaned, looking satisfied but still out of breath.

Amanda glanced back at me again, rolling her eyes.

Low streams of light created thin, dusty prisms around the abandoned front room of the trailer.

This was, undoubtedly, meant to be the Cornwalls’ living room at one time. In the light of day, there was nothing frightening about it. Just an empty living space, like any normal family would have.

But there was no