Revealed by Amanda Valentino Page B

sure Amanda was in Kansas, because a girl who tried out for the soccer team named Amanda Valentory (obviously, she informed us, the same person as our Amanda Valentino) also painted their principal’s car and then disappeared.
    Shaking my head, I turned the page and found myself reading an article someone anonymously submitted about a woman named Annie Beckendorf who’d been killed in a car accident just weeks before Amanda showed up in Orion. According to the article, “Ms. Beckendorf was hit and killed by a driver in a blue Mercedes when she ran a red light at high speed in what may have been a high-velocity chase with an unidentified driver in another car.” The person who’d sent in the article to theamandaproject.com had also scanned in a list of Ms. Beckendorf’s personal effects, a list that, according to the letterhead, was the property of the California Medical Examiner’s Office. Not really wanting to know how some random kid had hacked into the coroner’s computer files, I skimmed the list, looking for anything that might hold a key to the connection between Amanda and this Annie Beckendorf woman, and it was literally a key that caught my eye. Apparently, in addition to her purse, phone, and clothing, Annie Beckendorf had in her possession at the time of her death “one antique key, silver-plated.”
    I thought of the small silver key Amanda always wore on a ribbon around her neck. Everything about her changed almost daily—her hair color, her style, sometimes even her accent and skin tone. But she always, always wore the key on the blue ribbon.
    Suddenly I had an insane thought. Could Amanda have been the driver of the Mercedes? Could she have . . . killed a person accidentally and could she be on the run from her crime? If so, it would be just like her to wear a talisman to remind her of what she’d done, something that would make it impossible for her to put the accident out of her mind for even a day. Could her own guilt have been what made her realize the secret Callie was keeping, that she knew Heidi Bragg had hit Beatrice Rossiter that night while illegally test-driving her dad’s car?
    I didn’t even realize what I was doing until I’d actually hit Callie’s number on speed dial, and then I frantically pushed END CALL about a thousand times. Hey, Callie, it’s Hal. I completely lied to you and Nia about this, but I’m on my way to Baltimore and I want to run a theory by you. Is that cool?
    Anyway, Amanda didn’t exactly seem like the hit-and-run type. I thought of the girl with the dad in ICU, the girl she’d supposedly sat with through a day and a night, and the girl she protected from bullies. It wasn’t that you couldn’t be a good Samaritan and a murderer, but I just didn’t see an unlicensed Amanda stealing someone’s car and committing vehicular underaged manslaughter.
    Heidi Bragg, yes. Amanda, no.
    Thinking of Heidi hitting Beatrice Rossiter with her dad’s “borrowed” car reminded me of seeing Bea’s name on Thornhill’s list. Or not seeing Bea’s name on the list. Which had it been, again? I flipped open my phone and texted Cornelia.
    ANY LUCK GETTING INTO THORNHILLS
COMPUTER?
    As if she’d been sitting and waiting for me to write to her, Cornelia texted back in less than a minute.
    AM RUNNING WEBSITE (FULL-TIME JOB)
WHILE TRYING NOT 2 FAIL OUT OF SCHOOL.
SO SORRY UNABLE TO SATISFY ALL UR
MAJESTYS NEEDS IMMEDIATELY.
    MY BAD,
    I texted back, adding,
    THANKS FOR FOLDER. V INTERESTING STUFF HERE.
    She didn’t respond, too busy with other things, no doubt.
    It had been overcast when I’d boarded the train in Orion, and now sheets of rain slapped against my window. It created a beautiful effect, blurring the houses and landscape we were speeding through. Out of habit, I found myself opening my sketchbook and starting to draw, but my heart wasn’t in it. I realized that