Don't Tell Anyone Read Online Free PDF

that as she rushed after the dog.
    She could leave her bike here and carry the dog all the way back, but she didn’t want to do that. She had not brought the chain and padlock that she used when she rode her bike to school because she had not intended to be away from her bike. What if someone stole it?
    She wasn’t sure she could carry the dog that far anyway; Dinkle would get heavy in a hurry. Or he might jump out of her arms and take off again.
    Megan petted Dinkle some more and tried to think what to do.

    Lacey tried to smile and act pleasant as she showed customers to their tables, but in her mind she went over and over the accident. It was completely her fault; there was no way around that. How could she have been so careless?
    She had learned in Driver’s Ed never to try to pick up a dropped item while she was driving. She knew better. Her mind had been on her sister when the soda spilled, but that was no excuse.
    The restaurant phone rang while Lacey was seating a group in the private dining room. When she returned to her station, Mrs. Grogan said, “There’s a call for you, Lacey. It’s someone from the newspaper.”
    Lacey’s heart leaped into her throat. “What do they want?”
    Mrs. Grogan shrugged.
    Lacey took a deep breath. Calm down, she told herself. How would the newspaper know anything about her involvement in the accident? Her voice trembled as she said, “Hello?”
    â€œLacey, it’s Valerie from the
Daily Tribune.
I’m the one who interviewed you at school last week for the graduation story. I just wanted to let you know that the article and your photo will be in tomorrow morning’s paper.”
    Lacey managed to say “thank you” before replacing the receiver. She had been thrilled when the journalist interviewed her and asked permission to print her senior class picture. Now it no longer seemed important.

6
    After sitting beside the tired dog for a few minutes, Megan removed her windbreaker, zippered it shut, and slid one sleeve under the dog’s collar. Then she tied the sleeves together at the wrists, pulling the knot as tight as she could.
    Holding on to the bottom of her windbreaker, she stood up, letting the windbreaker act as a leash. She thought she could lead the dog this way and get him safely back to the field.
    â€œCome on, Dinkle,” Megan said. “You’ve rested long enough. It’s time to head home.”
    When Megan tugged on the windbreaker, the dog stood and followed her.
    It was awkward to walk her bike with one hand. It wobbled when she went up and down curbs in order to cross the streets. It took far longer to walk back to the field than it had taken her to ride her bike away from it.
    By the time she returned to the wrecked van, an ambulance had already taken the driver away.
    Most of the people who had stopped to help or watch had left. A few stood in a group, talking about what had happened.
    A helicopter circled the field; Megan knew it must be from one of the television stations.
    Two police cars were parked near the white sign. The blue lights on top of the cars swirled around and around, making the sign look like an ad for a carnival ride.
    Two officers searched the street where the accident had happened. A third directed traffic around the site. A woman carrying a large camera took pictures of the scene.
    Another police officer walked toward the squad car.
    Megan laid her bike down and hurried toward him. “This dog was in the wrecked van,” she said. “After the accident, he jumped out and ran away. I went after him and caught him.”
    The woman immediately took a picture of Megan and the dog. Then she started scribbling in a notebook.
    The officer introduced himself as Officer Rupp. He asked Megan questions about the dog. When he discovered that Megan had actually witnessed the accident, he wrotedown her name, address, and phone number, then questioned her even more.
    She told