Free Since You've Been Gone by Mary Jennifer Payne

mean.”
    â€œGetting me in trouble is what I mean. Is it funny to all of you?”
    The anger is back, resonating off him in waves. It was evident Jermaine didn’t believe my explanation for stealing the money.
    â€œNo, I swear. Keisha and Savitri don’t even know I took the money.”
    â€œAnd I’m supposed to believe a thief?”
    It’s raining harder. Drops of water ricochet off the pavement. Even they seem full of rage.
    â€œI’m sorry,” I stammer. “But I can’t tell anyone I took that money. Especially not Mr. Middleton. At least not yet.”
    Jermaine glares at me. “You have no idea what you’ve done,” he says, his voice low. “Stay away from me. And best hope I stay away from you.”
    He turns and walks away without so much as a glance back at me. I stand for a moment in the rain watching him, not wanting to turn my back until I know he’s a safe distance away. Then I begin to run.

CHAPTER 14

    I don’t stop running until I’m back at the flat. By the time I reach the parking lot in front of the building, my lungs feel as though they’ve been doused in gasoline and set on fire. My hair sticks in soaking strands to my cheeks and neck. I’m a mess.
    As I walk onto the landing outside the flat, I’m startled to see a man and a woman knocking on our door. They’re both wearing yellow vests. I’ve seen police officers around their station in the centre of Lewisham just opposite the Pizza Hut, but these uniforms aren’t quite the same. I slow my pace and try to steady my breathing.
    The man looks up as I approach. “Hello there,” he says, flashing me a goofy grin that reveals teeth in bad need of a visit to a dentist’s office. “Do you live here?”
    I pause. But just for a moment.
    â€œIn this building? Yeah.” My heart’s thumping so hard I’m sure they can see it beating through my jacket.
    â€œDo you live at this flat?” he asks, nodding at our door.
    â€œNo,” I reply. “I live two doors down.”
    They exchange a knowing glance. Every muscle in my body tenses.
    â€œThat’s too bad. We’re hoping to speak to the residents of this flat,” the woman says, nodding her head toward our door. “Maybe you know them?” She raises an eyebrow questioningly at me.
    I shrug. “Nope. Sorry. I can’t help you.” I walk past the two of them, pretending to head toward one of the flats farther along the concrete walkway.
    â€œThat’s so curious,” the man replies from behind me. “Because the girl who supposedly lives here is just about your age and from Canada.”
    Before the words are out of his mouth I begin to run, my legs propelling me toward the staircase at the end of the walkway.
    Running footsteps fall in time with mine, but I don’t dare turn around. That would only slow me down. The man is tall and lean and I need every advantage I can get.
    I reach the stairs and hurl myself down them two at a time, praying I won’t lose my footing. The cold metal of the railing slides under my palm. It’s the only thing keeping me from falling headfirst down the steps.
    â€œWait!” the man shouts. My heart jumps. He’s so near it sounds like he’s almost yelling in my ear. “Please stop! We just want to have a word with you.”
    Screw you , I think. They’re some sort of police, maybe not like the ones I see walking around the neighbourhood by the school or in their little white cop cars, but close enough. Close enough that there’s no way I’m going to stop. They stick together. I know that all too well. And it doesn’t matter if you’re police in a different country. If they’re looking for me then I can bet Dad’s found us after all. And he likely found Mom first.
    I leap from the staircase, leaving the final four steps untouched. My shoes hit the asphalt of the