Free Brooklyn Secrets by Triss Stein

of outspoken back then?”
    â€œOh, yes.”
    Ms. Talbot nodded. “She was toning it down a bit in that news conference on TV. Did you see that? Of course she really is heartbroken. As we all are.”
    â€œIf there was anything I could do…” I knew there wasn’t. The words just fell out of my mouth. “You know, my teenage daughter was watching the news with me and she said, cops should be talking to all Savanna’s friends. No adult really knows what’s going on with a teen.”
    Behind us, Deandra dropped a pile of books, loudly, and scurried to retrieve them.

Chapter Eight
    â€œDeandra! Child, what is the matter with you today?”
    She was a tiny young girl, younger than Savanna, in tights and a giant sweater, and startling day-glo pink sneakers. She had a baby face under her makeup. She looked petrified.
    â€œIt’s all right. It’s all right.” Mrs. Talbot softened her voice. “I know we are all upset. Just get that mess cleaned up.”
    We turned away, and then she turned back.
    â€œHave the cops been doing their job, talking to all her friends?”
    â€œYes, ma’am. Lots of cops around.”
    I could see Mrs. Talbot looked skeptical.
    â€œHome too? You live in the same building as Savvie. Talking to everyone?”
    She nodded, looking like a mouse facing a cobra. Trapped.
    â€œAnd you all telling them whatever you know, or is everyone too scared to speak up?”
    â€œWell, some people. Well, lots of people, scared, I mean. I mean, everyone knows cops make you tell everything you ever did, and even things you ain’t never did. Or other people’s things they did. And then the other people would know you talked to them and be real, real pissed off.” Deandra stopped, looking even more upset. “Sorry for the language.” She went on, “And they be all up in your face about that. They won’t be just talking neither.”
    Honestly, she looked like she was about to faint.
    Ms. Talbot sighed. “Oh, lord, child. Just go back to work. But listen to me. If they get to you, you tell them anything that might help.”
    She shook her head as we walked toward the door. “That girl is no Savanna, sorry to say. Of course she isn’t but fourteen but she is scared of her own shadow. She needs some survival skills.”
    I know I looked surprised at that. This was certainly a scary time for her and anyone who knew Savanna at all, let alone a real friend.
    Ms. Talbot noticed my expression. “I know, I know. We are all hurting but she’s like that all the time. A little mouse. Looks up to Savanna though and Savvie kind of big-sisters her. I’ve been hoping a little backbone would rub off.”
    It was time for me to go. I said my good-byes, was urged to stay in touch, and off I went. This time, I looked both ways, a long look up and down the block, before I even left the library steps for my car. And I had my car keys out, all ready for a quick entrance into my car. Or an impromptu weapon, as needed. No fumbling this time.
    No sooner had I opened the car door than I heard gasping behind me. It was Deandra, running, no jacket on, and her neon bright shoes thumping the sidewalk.
    She stopped short right in front of me, standing at my open car door.
    â€œI had a thing to tell you.” She was gasping for air and shaking.
    I looked up the street again. No one was out. But still.
    â€œGet in my car. Door’s open.”
    Inside, doors locked, I offered her water from my bottle. Her gasping slowed down.
    â€œThere is a thing I know. Hardly nobody knows but me. Maybe one or two of her real close girls, but they not going to tell. What do I do?” She twisted her fingers. “I’m so scared, I’m not even sleeping nights.”
    My first impulse was to say tell the detectives who are asking the questions. Whoever hurt Savanna should not be walking the streets. My second, as I looked out