As Maggie had expected, the stoner college boy was easily distracted. When she handed over the money he just asked her if she didn't want to test drive the car first, but he didn't press the issue - he was too busy counting the twenties to pay her any real attention. He muttered something about title transfers and needing to change the car's registration, but when she said she was in a hurry and they could take care of all that later, he just handed over the keys. She told him her name was Greta Garbo and he didn't even shrug. He wanted a phone number for her but it was easy to make one up.

Five minutes later she was on the road in her brand new broken down much used, oft-repaired Honda. It was gray, sort of, where it wasn't rust colored. The interior stank of pot smoke but if she rolled down all the windows she could breathe enough to drive. She got on the road and headed toward the highway. There was nothing to hold her anymore. Nothing to stop her from making a clean getaway.

Except...

Except there was one thing she wanted to get first. She would leave all her clothes, leave all her things at the house rather than face Grandma again. But in her locker, at school, there was one thing she couldn't just leave behind.

Taped on the inside of her locker door was a picture of her mom.

If she could just see it, one more time. If she could take it with her, and look at it every time she started forgetting what Mom looked like - it would help a lot. It would make her feel like she wasn't going crazy. That the guilt she felt for the things she'd one wasn't going to take her whole life away, just like she'd taken the drunk's TV set.

It was a mistake, she knew. Going to the school would put her at risk. Her disguise probably wouldn't fool any of the kids there who knew her. And most likely Brent would be there. But if she was quick, if she didn't take any unnecessary chances, then... maybe. Maybe it would be alright.

The school was barely two miles away. It was an easy drive, and when she was done she could get right back on the highway from the school's feeder road. She could be halfway across the state by lunch time.

"Let's do it," she told herself, and threw the car in gear.

There were plenty of available spaces in the school's parking lot. Theoretically if you didn't have the correct permit you could be towed for parking there, but she didn't plan on sticking around long enough for that to happen. She got out of the car and headed for the main doors of the school, the doors she'd passed through every weekday for the last three school years. There was no one around - classes were in session and the hallways would be empty. That was good.

She passed right underneath a security camera on her way in. She considered grabbing it and tearing it off the wall, but the damage was already done - she had already been taped going into the school. Whatever. By the time the police saw the tape she would be long gone.

She didn't see anyone until she was passing the Home Ec rooms. There was a girl, a freshman Maggie didn't know, using the drinking fountain to wash off her retainer. When she saw Maggie the girl pressed herself up against the wall and stared in terror.

"Grr," Maggie said, and scratched at the air like a cat.

The freshman girl squeaked in panic. She turned her head to one side as if she really expected Maggie to attack her, as if she couldn't bear to watch the blow coming at her.

"Oh, just beat it," Maggie said, and the girl was running before she'd even finished her sentence. The girl would probably go and tell her teacher, and the teacher would call the principal's office, and the principal would call the cops. Whatever. That would take time, and her locker was just up ahead. When she reached it she wasted a few seconds trying to remember the combination, then realized she didn't need it. She grabbed the locker's handle and pulled. The whole door came away with a nasty screeching noise that made Maggie's teeth hurt, it was so loud. Up and down the hall classroom doors popped open and kids looked out, wanting to see what was going on. It didn't matter. She would just grab the photo and walk out, and if anyone tried to stop her she would just -

The picture wasn't there.

There was nothing on the inside of the door. The locker itself was completely empty. It didn't even smell like her locker anymore. It smelled like someone had scrubbed it out with disinfectant, a nasty smell that managed to be sweet and acrid at the same time. Not willing to believe it, Maggie turned the bent locker door over in her hands and checked the number, but it was the same number she'd always had.

"You bastards," she growled. They had cleaned out her locker.

Well, of course they had. The police had probably insisted on it. They would have wanted to know if there was anything in the locker that could lead them to her. She imagined one of the vice principals sorting through her stinky gym clothes and disassembling the ham sandwich lunch she'd left in there the day before she ran away. They probably went through all her textbooks and read all the notes in the margins. And they had definitely taken her picture of Mom away.

"Oh no, you didn't," she said. She couldn't manage to put as much ironic sneer into her voice as she would have liked, though.

Maybe they still had her stuff in a box somewhere, if they hadn't just thrown it out. Maybe it was in the principal's office. The smart thing to do, of course, would be to just walk away. She'd already taken too long here - any second now, somebody might -

"We all get PMS sometimes, Maggot. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

Maggie turned slowly, a very nasty grin forming on her face. "Hello, Pill," she said. "It's been so long, and I've barely missed you at all."

Jill Hennessey stepped out of the student lounge just down the hall. "I've been keeping up with your press clippings. You know, the news reports, the articles in the paper. The wanted posters. I have to admit, I'm becoming a fan. I mean, I always believed in you. I knew from the start that you had the makings of a first rate sociopath. But you really sunk to new depths faster than any of us imagined. In just a few short weeks you went from beating up defenseless old ladies to robbing banks. Kudos to you!"

Maggie frowned. This felt wrong. Jill was cruel, yes, and even sadistic. But she didn't sound right. She was talking too fast, almost as if she were nervous about something. As if she was scared.

If that were the case - at least there was going to be one bright spot in Maggie's day. But still, she needed to know what was going on. She ran over to where Jill stood and grabbed her by the throat. "What do you think you're doing? Don't lie to me."

"I'm stalling you, you stupid child. I sent Dana to get your brother and I don't want you to run away before he gets here."

"Big mistake," Maggie said.

"I don't know. It seems to be working."