His eyes dropped.
“To mess with Claire.”
I couldn’t speak.
He continued.
“We knew she sometimes ate in the old art courtyard because nobody bothered her there. Marcus found an unlocked service door. We thought if we hid her backpack down there, she’d have to go looking for it.”
My stomach turned.
“You lured her into a basement?”
“We didn’t think—”
“No. You didn’t.”
He nodded.
Tears fell.
“No.”
“What happened?”
“There was a maintenance cart.”
“What kind?”
“Cleaning supplies. Paint stuff. I don’t know.”
He rubbed his face.
“Someone knocked something over.”
“Who?”
“Me.”
My eyes locked onto his.
“I kicked the wheel because Marcus dared me.”
He started crying harder.
“One container fell. Then another. Something spilled.”
“What?”
“I don’t know.”
The hospital had spent days asking about chemical exposure.
I gripped the railing.
“What happened next?”
“At first we laughed.”
He looked sick saying it.
“Then Hannah started coughing.”
I stared at the phone.
“Claire smelled something and told us to leave.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I told her she was being dramatic.”
Of course he did.
My throat tightened.
“What happened to you?”
“I got dizzy.”
He pointed to his head.
“I don’t remember much after that.”
“Then why is Claire carrying you?”
Rocky looked at me like the answer should have been obvious.
“Because she came back.”
