Jonas watched her disappear down the hall.
She didn't even look at him.
Not once.
That stung more than it should have. He'd been expecting flinching, maybe the way her shoulders would hunch like before — like prey. But no. She walked past him like he was just another face in the crowd.
It was wrong.
"She's acting like she owns the place," Mason muttered beside him. "After everything."
Jonas didn't answer. His jaw tightened.
Ever since that day in the dump site, nothing had been the same. Mike was gone. Burned. Charred so bad the detectives said they couldn't even tell where the fire ended and the body began. And somehow, Amanda Evans was still walking around.
Beaten half to death, sure — by us — but alive. Too alive.
"Detectives were here again," the third guy, Reggie, said under his breath. "Think they're looking at her?"
Jonas's mouth curled into something that wasn't quite a smile. "They should be. She was the last one to see him. Everyone knows it."
The truth was, Jonas didn't know. Not really. But it made sense. Mike hated her, Amanda hated Mike. People like her… quiet, soft, they snapped sometimes. And when they did, it was always the quiet ones who surprised you.
Jonas remembered the first time Mike pushed her in the hallway. She'd stumbled, turned red — but she didn't cry. She just looked at Mike with this… expression. Like she was memorizing him.
That look was back now.
He could still feel it from the way she'd passed earlier — not scared, not even angry. Just… cold.
It made him think of the dump site too. Of firelight dancing against black smoke, the smell of burning trash. Only this time, he pictured Amanda standing there, watching.
A bell rang somewhere overhead. Jonas glanced toward the second floor — and saw Brian, the detective, leaning on the railing, looking down at the students.
For a moment, their eyes met. Brian didn't smile. Didn't nod. Just stared.
Jonas shifted uncomfortably and looked away.
"Let's go," he muttered, pushing off the wall. "If the cops call me in again, I'm not letting her walk out clean again."
Behind him, Mason and Reggie followed, but Jonas kept his eyes forward.
The storm outside cracked again, loud and sharp, rattling the windows.
Jonas barely had time to drop his bag in his locker before a voice called from the end of the hall.
"Jonas Wheeler."
It wasn't a teacher. It wasn't a friend.
It was Brian.
The detective stood there like he had all the time in the world, but his eyes were sharp.
Jonas glanced at Mason and Reggie. "I'll catch up," he muttered, though his chest felt tight.
Brian led him to the counseling room — the same place they'd been before. Same dim light, same too-clean smell. Paul was already seated with his notebook, pen in hand, waiting.
"Sit," Brian said.
Jonas slouched into the chair, but his knee bounced under the table. "What now? I already told you everything."
"Things change," Brian replied. He pulled out a thin file, the edges curled from being handled too much. "We've been piecing together a clearer timeline."
Jonas looked away. "And?"
"And you were one of the last people to see Mike alive. Again."
Jonas scoffed. "So was Amanda. Why don't you ask her?"
"Oh, we have," Brian said smoothly. "But I'm interested in what you saw that morning."
Jonas's mind flickered back. Mike, grinning like an idiot as he walked into school. He had mentioned that he was going to make Amanda carry trash to the dump site. Jonas hadn't thought much of it.
"I didn't see much," Jonas said. "Mike went to mess with her. That's all."
Brian leaned forward. "Mess with her… how?"
"You know. The usual. She's fat . He hates her for it. Everyone does " Jonas gave a half-smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Wouldn't surprise me if she finally snapped."
Brian didn't blink. "Funny thing, Jonas. You're quick to point to Amanda. But there's no proof she was anywhere near the accelerant."
Jonas froze for a second too long. "Accelerant?"
"Gasoline," Paul said, flipping a page in his notebook. "Used to make the fire burn hotter, faster. We found traces at the dump site."
Jonas shrugged. "So? Could've been there already."
Brian studied him,his gaze steady in a way that made Jonas feel like he'd already said too much.
"Could've been," Brian agreed slowly. "But here's the thing — we also found fresh boot prints near the burn area. Larger than Mike's. He wore size nine. These were size eleven."
Jonas's jaw tightened. "Lots of people have size eleven shoes."
"Yes," Brian said. "But not lots of people were seen heading toward the dump site right after Mike."
Jonas's eyes narrowed. "Who said that?"
Brian smiled faintly. "That's the part I can't tell you."
Jonas leaned back in his chair, but the movement wasn't as casual as he hoped it would look. "You think I'd kill Mike? He was my friend."
Brian didn't answer immediately. Instead, he flipped through the file like he was looking for a specific page. "Funny definition of friendship. From what we've heard, you two fought plenty. Money, girls, even grades. And the week before he died, you told Mason you were 'done covering for him.'"
Jonas's hands curled into fists on the table. "You're twisting things."
"Maybe," Brian said mildly. "But you're twitchy, Jonas. And twitchy people usually have something to hide."
Jonas stared back at him, trying not to let the storm inside his head leak onto his face.
Brian closed the file. "You can go. But if you think staying quiet will protect you — it won't. Smoke doesn't fade. It clings."
Jonas stood, jaw tight, and pushed open the door.
Out in the hallway, Amanda was gone. But he could still feel her presence lingering — like the faint scent of burnt plastic that seemed to follow him no matter where he went.
And for the first time since Mike's death, Jonas wondered if the detectives were really looking in the wrong place… or if they already knew exactly where to look.