Operation Alpha. Justine Davis

did.

      “Of course.”

       Chapter 3

      “His name is Dylan,” Emily said. “Dylan Oakley.”

      “What makes you think he’s in trouble?” Quinn asked.

      “He’s been very different lately. I mean, he has reason, but...”

      When she stopped, swallowing tightly, Ria knew why and stepped in. “His mother was killed in March, in a hiking accident.”

      It was a moment before anyone spoke.

      “You know him? Is he a student of yours, as well?” Quinn asked Ria.

      She nodded. “I’ve had him in classes for two years. And the difference in him is...marked.”

      “And it’s been getting worse lately, not better,” Emily said.

      “Sometimes it happens that way,” Hayley said, her tone gentle with understanding. “Grief has its own path, and it’s different for everyone.”

      Emily’s gaze shifted to Quinn. He nodded. “She knows, too.”

      Even the dog sat up from his spot near Emily and plopped his chin on the girl’s knee, making her smile as she reached out to stroke his fur.

      Ria felt oddly out of place. As if she’d stumbled into a club she gratefully lacked the qualifications for. She’d never lost anyone really close to her. Even both sets of her grandparents were still kicking, a couple of them off playing in a seniors tennis tournament in California. Her parents were still running the family hardware stores and her two older brothers were busy with their lives—one producing the much-desired grandkids for the parents while he managed the accounting for the stores, the other following his dream of being an airline pilot. She had aunts and uncles scattered all over the country, and cousins abounded.

      She knew she was lucky, but nothing had brought it home like this moment, sitting here among people who had dealt with the kind of loss she’d never had to face. Yet.

      Ria toyed with one of her earrings, the tiny silver crossed saw and hammer that was the logo for her family’s stores. She glanced at Liam, wondering. But it was there, too, that look. That understanding. It changed his open, innocent appearance, and suddenly he didn’t seem quite so young. But his expression was also tinged with something else. In fact, for a moment she thought she saw guilt before he lowered his gaze.

      And belatedly she realized that when she had looked at him, he’d already been looking at her. She gave herself an inward shake and focused on the matter at hand.

      “But Dylan used to talk to me,” Emily was saying. “Because I got it. I knew how it felt, losing his mom. But he stopped. And he doesn’t even talk to his best friends anymore.”

      “He’s a smart kid and used to be well prepared. But his grades have dropped dramatically in the last couple of months,” Ria said. “He’s even missed some classes, which he never did even right after she died. In fact, he seemed to dive into his studies even more.”

      “It’s a good way to avoid thinking about it,” Quinn said. His voice held the self-knowledge they all seemed to share but her.

      “I read tons of books,” Emily said.

      “So did I, after my mother died,” Hayley said. “It was my escape.”

      Emily looked at Liam. “What did you do?”

      He gave the girl a startled glance. “What makes you think—” He stopped, and Ria saw his jaw tighten and then release as he said, “Computers. And sometimes I’d take off into the hills for a few days. Find something to track.”

      There was silence for a moment. Ria looked at her student. She also obviously recognized he’d been through this particular hell. But, then, Emily was very perceptive.

      “He’s also dropped his other activities,” Ria said. “He played baseball in a local league and was good at it, but he didn’t sign up this year.”

      “And he was just starting to get really interested in martial arts,” Emily said. “He was all excited, looking for a good school or coach or whatever they call them, and now he won’t even talk about it.”

      “Withdrawing from life,” Hayley said with a frown.

      “Exactly,” Emily said. “I’m worried about him. I even—”

      She broke off, looking embarrassed.

      “Truth is best, if we’re to help.” Quinn’s tone was mild, nonjudgmental.

      “I snuck a look at his phone,” the girl admitted. “I was afraid he might be...thinking of doing something.”

      She’d told Ria about her surreptitious checking of text messages and web history, and while Ria couldn’t officially condone the sneakiness and invasion of privacy, she understood the girl’s motivation.

      “I didn’t find anything,” Emily said quickly. “Nothing ominous, anyway.”

      “No searching for suicide hotlines or methods,” Ria put in, since that had been her main concern.

      “Or bomb-building information?” Quinn asked, his voice gentle.

      Emily’s eyebrows shot up, and Ria guessed hers had, too.

      “Of course not! Dylan would never. Ever.” Emily was vehement.

      Ria didn’t blame him for asking. How many times had people said, after some disaster, that they’d had no idea, that they couldn’t believe their nice, quiet neighbor/friend/relative could have done such a thing?

      “No insult intended, Emily. Just eliminating possibilities. Like before.”

      Ria saw the girl let out a breath, and then she nodded. Emily had told her how Quinn had asked a ton of questions, some of them shocking to her. But one had led to the awful realization that someone she’d thought a friend had been one of the thieves who had broken into their house on a night when they’d known she and her adoptive family would be gone.

      “Here, I can show you.”

      Emily sent a picture she’d taken of Dylan at a baseball game last year to Quinn’s phone, and followed it with one she’d surreptitiously taken just last week. Ria had seen them both, and the change in the boy was startling. He’d gone from a healthy, carefree, good-looking young man with a fun-loving air to a shadowed, hunched, too-thin boy who looked nothing less than haunted.

      Hayley looked at them as they came in, and Ria saw her eyes widen as she took in an audible breath.

      “I see why you’re concerned,” she said.

      “I think he’s not eating, too,” Emily said.

      “He’s lost weight,” Ria confirmed. “And he didn’t have much to spare, since he’d already lost some after his mom died.”

      “He said that was his dad’s lousy cooking,” Emily said.

      “He told you that?” It was the first time Liam had spoken. Emily nodded.

      “Yes. We talked a lot, back then. And really, if he’d just stopped talking to me, I would have understood. I would have thought I was just a reminder of loss he didn’t want to think about anymore. And that’s fine. You have to do what you have to do to get through.”

      Quinn gave her a long, steady look. “You,” he said, “have become everything I ever saw in you, my young friend.”

      Emily blushed, but she was smiling widely. And in that moment Ria quite liked Quinn Foxworth. Quinn nodded at the girl, and she picked up where she’d left off.

      “But he’s quit talking to everyone. And sometimes after school he goes up to the lookout—that’s