Read Dark Before Dawn for Free Online

too nice to say so.
    "No thanks," she said. "I’m not really into that kind of thing."
    "Too bad. I can’t get Ken into models, either, and was hoping I could find a partner to help with the grunt work."
    Dawn glanced over at her stepfather. Was Jeff as disappointed as he sounded? He had lowered his head to paint and she couldn’t see his face.
    "I wish we could get another update on Scott," Ken said.
    Dawn clasped her wrist in a pincer grip. She wanted, yet didn’t want, the latest news. A few hours ago, they’d heard through the grapevine that Scott was critical in intensive care. By now, he could be dead.
    "I know. Me too. Scott's mother must be a wreck." Jeff turned to Dawn’s mother. "I dated Susan in high school, and we see each other around town. Her kids are her life."
    Dawn's mother planted her elbows on the card table and rubbed the sides of her neck. Her mouth drooped at the corners. "This is awful. I wish you kids didn’t have to see it happen. What was Scott thinking?"
    "I don’t get what he was doing," Jeff said. "I heard he was playing Chicken. I hope that wasn’t the case."
    "That's the weird thing, Dad," Ken said. "I don't think he was messing around. He seemed out of it."
    "Could he have gotten dizzy?" asked Dawn's mother.
    "I guess," Ken said. "I don't know. I just looked up and there he was."
    They’d analyzed the accident from every angle, and it still made no sense. This time nothing could distract Dawn from the truth, not mathematics or model ships.
    She had tried to warn Scott.
    She’d failed.
    ***
    Dawn sensed the gloom the moment she entered the high school. Small groups clustered in the corridors and two girls embraced by a locker.
    "I can't believe he's dead," one said in a wooden voice.
    Another girl wept in the arms of a female teacher. An invisible punch slammed into Dawn’s gut as she fumbled with her locker combination. Maybe they weren't talking about Scott. He was critical. He had to be critical.
    "You!" Renee strode toward her, mascara striping the bags under her dark snapping eyes.
    Tim Travers and four other guys closed in around Dawn. Vicky stooped behind them, clutching a damp tissue. Renee had dressed in a black blazer, skirt and nylons, her gold necklace and barrettes accenting the outfit. She would have looked sophisticated except her face had the ruddy puffiness associated with crying.
    "You told my boyfriend that he'd get hit by a car, and now he's..." Her high-pitched voice broke off.
    "Dead," Tim Travers finished wearily.
    Dawn couldn’t hold her head up, her cheeks, lips and jaw all sinking.
    Renee pointed a French-manicured fingernail. "You were there when he got hit. You put a curse on him."
    Dawn’s insides liquidated. "It was coincidence. I–"
    "Witch. That's what you are. A witch."
    Dawn shrank back from the mix of fury and fear in Renee’s voice. No one had ever called her a witch. They'd called her snobbish, quiet and strange, but never a witch.
    "I think you’ve been reading too much of The Crucible . I had an awful feeling, so I warned him. I'm sorry, so terribly sorry, that it came true."
    "I'm gonna find out the truth, and if you had anything to do with his death–" Renee stopped and blanched, her lip gloss glowing bright in contrast.
    "I'm sorry," Dawn murmured. "I'm so sorry."
    "Come on," Tim ordered his friends. "Let's get out of here."
    Vicky lingered behind, twisting her crumpled tissue. Tousled wisps sprang from the hairclip at the base of her neck and tears streaked her pale face. "You shouldn't apologize. Renee's been awful to you. She'll milk Scott's death for everything she can. Pretty soon, she'll be telling everyone they were engaged. What a joke."
    Dawn bent down and pulled a couple books out of her locker. She didn’t deserve Renee’s abuse, but she wasn’t worthy of Vicky’s sympathy, either. "Thanks for sticking up for me the other day."
    "It’s okay. I've … I’ve never known anyone our age who died. It makes me sick every time