Chapter 31: The Sketchbook Gift

Jamie stared at his phone long after the strange text came through. His hands shook as he read the email again. Principal Garcia connected with Coach Wilson? It couldn't be true.

Could it?

He paced his room, mind racing. Should he go to the old bridge at midnight? It felt like walking into a trap. But if there really was more to the story...

His phone buzzed again. Another text from the unknown number:

"Tick tock, Jamie. Time to decide."

Jamie threw the phone on his bed. He needed to think. He needed to talk to someone.

No. The text warned not to tell anyone.

But Elliot needed to know. They were in this together.

Jamie grabbed his bag and pulled out a package wrapped in blue paper. The new diary for Elliot. He had bought it weeks ago but hadn't found the right time to give it.

Now might be his last shot.

Elliot couldn't sleep. Every time they closed their eyes, they saw Ryan with the gun. The hate in his eyes. The way Jamie had moved to protect them.

A soft tap on the window made them jump. Elliot pulled back the curtain to see Jamie on the tree branch outside.

"What are you doing?" Elliot whispered, opening the window. "It's almost 11 at night!"

"I had to see you," Jamie said, getting inside. He looked scared.

"What's wrong?"

Jamie sat on the edge of the bed. "First, I have something for you."

He gave Elliot the blue package. Inside was a beautiful leather sketchbook, much nicer than the one Ryan had wrecked. When Elliot opened the cover, they saw Jamie's handwriting:

"For the person who taught me to see the world differently."

"Jamie," Elliot whispered, tracing the words with their fingers. "It's perfect."

"Open to the first page," Jamie said.

Elliot turned the page and gasped. It was a drawing – not very good, but definitely done with care – of two people sitting under a starry sky. At the bottom, Jamie had written, "Our field of stars."

"You drew this?" Elliot asked, amazed.

"Tried to," Jamie laughed nervously. "I'm not very good."

"It's beautiful," Elliot said, meaning it.

Jamie's smile faded. "Elliot, there's something else. Something bad."

He showed Elliot the email and the picture of Principal Garcia with Coach Wilson.

"This has to be fake," Elliot said, but uncertainty crept into their voice.

"That's what I thought too, but look at the date. This was taken yesterday."

Elliot looked closer at the picture. "What's that in Principal Garcia's hand?"

Jamie zoomed in. It looked like a small black notebook.

"I think... I think that's the playbook Coach Wilson always carried," Jamie said slowly. "The one with all his 'special plays' that no one was allowed to see."

"Why would the principal have it?"

"I don't know. But I got a text telling me to meet someone at the old bridge at midnight. They say they have proof that more people are involved."

Elliot grabbed Jamie's arm. "You can't go! It's too dangerous!"

"What if it's true? What if Principal Garcia is involved? He knows everything about us, Elliot. Where we live. What we've been through."

Elliot paced the room, thinking. "We should tell the police."

"Which ones?" Jamie asked angrily. "We already know one officer was working with Coach Wilson."

They sat in silence, the weight of the situation pressing down on them.

"I'm coming with you," Elliot finally said.

"No way. It's too dangerous."

"Exactly why you shouldn't go alone."

Before Jamie could argue, Elliot's phone rang. A text from Megan:

"SOS. Someone broke into my house. Hiding in closet. They're looking for something about the Wilson case."

Jamie and Elliot looked at each other in fear.

"We have to help her," Elliot said, already pulling on shoes.

"This can't be a coincidence," Jamie said. "Whoever sent me that email knew I'd tell you, and now they're going after our friends too."

They slipped out Elliot's window and down the tree. The night was dark, with clouds hiding the moon. Every darkness seemed to hide a threat.

Megan's house was three blocks away. They ran through backyards and cut across lawns, keeping off the main streets.

When they reached Megan's house, all the lights were off. Nothing seemed wrong from the outside.

"Maybe we should call 911," Elliot whispered.

"But what if the police are involved?" Jamie countered.

They crept to the back door. It was slightly open.

"Megan?" Elliot called softly, pushing the door open.

No answer.

They stepped inside. The house was completely quiet.

"Megan?" Jamie tried again, a little louder.

A floorboard creaked upstairs.

They froze, listening. Another creak, then footsteps moving toward the stairs.

"Hide!" Elliot hissed, pulling Jamie into the kitchen pantry.

Through the slats in the door, they watched as a dark figure descended the steps. The person was dressed in black, wearing a mask. In their hand was a flashlight and what looked like a box of papers.

The figure stopped at the bottom of the stairs, shining the light around the room. For a moment, the beam swept across the pantry door. Elliot held their breath, squeezing Jamie's hand.

The figure moved toward the front door, then stopped suddenly. They reached into their pocket and pulled out a phone. In the glow of the screen, Jamie and Elliot could see the mask clearly for the first time.

It was a happy face. The same face Coach Wilson used to wear on his hat during games.

The person tapped something on the phone, then set it on the coffee table. They left through the front door without looking back.

"We have to find Megan," Elliot whispered when they were sure the person was gone.

They crept from the kitchen and up the stairs, calling Megan's name softly. They found her bedroom door locked.

"Megan? It's us. Are you in there?"

The door opened a crack, then wider as Megan saw their faces. She threw her arms around them both.

"You came," she sobbed. "I was so scared."

"What happened?" Jamie asked. "Who was that?"

"I don't know," Megan said, wiping tears from her face. "I was about to go to bed when I heard someone breaking in. I hid in my closet and texted you. They were going through all my things, looking for something."

"Where are your parents?" Elliot asked.

"At my grandma's for the night. I was supposed to go too, but I had homework."

A ringing sound came from downstairs.

"What's that?" Elliot asked.

Jamie's eyes widened. "The phone! They left a phone downstairs."

They ran down to find the phone still on the coffee table. Its screen was lit up with a timer:

00:30... 00:29... 00:28...

"Is that a—" Megan couldn't finish the sentence.

"Bomb," Jamie whispered. "We need to get out. Now!"

They ran for the front door, but it wouldn't open. Something was stopping it from the outside.

"Back door!" Elliot shouted.

They raced through the house as the timer continued to count down.

00:15... 00:14... 00:13...

The back door was blocked too.

"Windows!" Megan cried, running to the living room window. She pulled back the curtain to find it boarded up from the outside.

00:09... 00:08... 00:07...

"Upstairs!" Jamie grabbed their hands, pulling them toward the stairs. "We can climb out your bedroom window!"

They rushed up the stairs, hearts pounding, as the timer kept counting down.

00:04... 00:03... 00:02...

Megan's window was their last chance.

00:01...

Jamie threw it open.

00:00.

The phone let out a long beep, followed by an automated voice:

"Game over, kids. You lose."

Suddenly, every screen in the house lit up – TV, computer, Megan's tablet. On each one was the same message:

"The bridge. Midnight. Only one of you can come. Choose wisely."

And below that, three pictures: Elliot's dad, Jamie's mom, and Megan's family, all sleeping peacefully in their beds, unaware they were being watched.

"We're being followed," Jamie whispered, looking out the window into the darkness. "All of us."

In the distance, the old bridge waited under the cloudy night sky.