Page 87 of Second Chance

No, the solution is much more obvious and a lot harder to take. Since the very beginning, Tony thought there wassomething off about Lily. The first couple days of the semester, she put up a good front that she was doing better, and she was ready to be back in school. But after Amelia Lawrence’s death, Lily’s downward spiral was so obvious Tony noticed it from two degrees of separation. He let Daniel’s firm, almost desperate desire to help her blind him to the danger of Lily’s instability, and now, they’re paying the price. Now, Emilio and his daughter have paid the price.

The only thing stopping Tony from calling 911 is that Daniel’s message said, “No police,” and Tony has no idea why.

He uses his phone flashlight to return most of the way to the Continuum. Germantown needs to invest in some streetlamps. Some infrastructure. Something. When Tony can see the empty theater in the distance, he shuts his light off. No need to alert anyone to his presence.

Empty beer cans and fast-food wrappers litter the parking lot and pile up high beside the overflowing trash can. The place has probably become a favorite hangout for local teens since it shut down. Tony and his friends used to do that as well, find empty spaces no one was using and claim them for their own. He likes to think he was a little more conscientious about cleaning up his trash, but he knows for sure no one in the vicinity appreciated the elongated Eminem phase he and Blake G went through when they were about fourteen, so he really has no legs to stand on.

The main entrance is padlocked. If he had the proper tools on him, Tony could easily crowbar it open, but he doubts it’s a good idea. At the very least, whoever took Daniel—and at the moment, Lily is looking likely—got rid of his phone and made him come here, which tells Tony a threat was involved.

Tony wanders around the outside. OnCriminal Minds, they would call it “casing the perimeter.” OnBones, the FBIcharacters would be angry at the scientists for going to a possible crime scene without backup.

Tony’s neither a scientist nor an FBI agent. He’s just a run-of-the-mill idiot.

The building barely has any windows, which is probably convenient for a movie theater but annoying for people trying to see inside. The back door has no lock. Tony tries the handle, but it doesn’t budge as if there’s something blocking the way.

He pushes a little harder, and an awful, grinding scrape screeches as though something shifted minutely, but the door stays shut.

Almost immediately, he hears footsteps inside.

“Hello?” a thin, high voice calls.

Low, aggravated whispers follow, and then what sounds like furniture shifts behind the door, loud and sudden.

Tony races around the corner of the building and makes for a section of greenery on slightly higher ground between that side of the old building and the fence encasing the whole property. He drops to his knees and scrambles into the underbrush growing wild there, which scratches at his face, hands, and neck.

The light of a cell phone flashlight sweeps around the asphalt by the back door. Thank fuck, Tony was paranoid enough to park somewhere else. He can’t make out the owner of the phone, not in the dark with the light from it blinding him to everything else. He can take an educated guess though. Especially when the person, obviously agitated and frustrated, sparks up a cigarette as they continue their search.

Sean.

He and Colette talked about how out of his depth he was, that Lily was dragging him down. But for some reason, Tony didn’texpect to find him here. He looks incongruous, like a teenager in a suit he borrowed from his dad, the wrong shape to fit.

Colette said it days ago, didn’t she? Amelia Lawrence and Daniel aren’t the only ones who have been pulled under by the tide of Lily sinking into her struggles. Sean has also been affected, and Tony has done him the same disservice he does himself: pretending that because he acts unaffected, he’s doing fine. They should have pushed more on the phone with him, should have asked him if he was really okay, if he was sure he hadn’t heard from Lily. He must have been scared.

Sean sweeps the whole of the parking lot, checks behind the building, and for one agonizing minute, the light of his phone shines across the bushes hiding Tony. He covers his face with his arms. The whole thing is over fast enough that he doesn’t even rediscover Catholicism through panicked prayer, which is a pleasant surprise.

After Sean’s done, both with the search and the cigarette, he returns to the building. Tony can’t see or hear a single thing happening inside. But it’s only a matter of minutes before Sean exits again, this time wearing an unseasonably warm duffel coat and a baseball cap that, unfortunately, does nothing to disguise his distinctive facial hair. Sean chains a second lock into place over the back door.

Then, he gets in his car and drives away.

“Fuck,” Tony mutters to himself as he scrambles out of the bushes and heads for the door. He should have said something. Gotten Sean’s attention. Sean is the reasonable one here, the one who doesn’t want to be in this mess. If Tony talked to him… But who knows how deeply Lily has her hooks in him. What if Sean thinks he needs to keep helping her or she’ll hurt him? It’s too risky. Tony’s first priority is Daniel.

He should have brought a toolbox. He should have brought fucking anything. No way he’s getting through that lock with his bare hands. It’s a bike lock (of course it is; these are Lobell students), and with the right tools it would be easy to crack, but Tony doesn’t have anything helpful on hand.

“Daniel?” he hisses. He doesn’t dare raise his voice too much. Who knows if Lily is still in there, or how dangerous she is. At least Sean was free to leave. But their third friend might also be part of this. Tony is unarmed, and he’s no closer to getting Daniel out.

A scrambling noise comes from the other side of the door. “Tony?”

It’s been a day and a half since he last heard Daniel’s voice. Not much time in the grand scheme of things, but the sound of it makes Tony’s entire body feel so light with relief he thinks he might float away. His joints turn to water. He sinks to his knees by the door.

“Daniel,” he repeats dumbly. “Are you all right? I mean, are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” Daniel says hurriedly. “I mean, they have me in some terrible Party City handcuffs, and I’m losing circulation, but otherwise.”

“They have a quick release? I can’t get the door open right now, but give me an hour or so to get some tools. Then I can—”

“No, listen.” Daniel’s voice through the door is urgent. “You can’t break me out yet.”

The information doesn’t register in Tony’s brain at first.

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