After Dark by James Leck, Yasemine Uçar, Marie Bartholomew, Danielle Mulhall

locals to handle most of the work, but we’d be helping out with a bit of the painting, the mowing and the general tidying up of the place. She said it was the perfect opportunity for some family bonding.
    Spending my days doing manual labor with my family sounded like about as much fun as hanging out with Stanley Peck back at Choke for the entire summer, so when everyone piled into the truck after breakfast to go pick out paint, I convinced Mom I needed to peruse the shops on Church Street for some new clothes.
    There weren’t any of the usual clothing stores or fast-food joints along Church Street. They were all local operations with names like Frog Brothers Café, Rosemary’s Roses or Eats Like a Bird Sandwich Shoppe. In fact, the only clothing store I saw was called Chaney’s Fine Garments, and it looked like it sold clothes that were made sometime in the mid-1940s. I needed new clothes, but not that badly, so I decided to wait for my stuff to arrive.
    The only place on the street that really stood out was a restaurant called The Opal. The front was all sleek steel and glass instead of brick, and it was twice as wide as the stores around it. More importantly, one of the cars parked out front was a shiny red Porsche. I decided to saunter over and casually press my face against the restaurant’s front window to see if Elizabeth was inside, but before I had a chance to make myself look like a crazy stalker, she strolled out the front door with a tall man dressed in a gray suit and wearing a fedora.
    â€œHi, Charlie,” she said, smiling. She had her hair tied back in a ponytail and was wearing cut-off shorts and a white tank top.
    â€œWow, what a surprise,” I said. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
    â€œThis is my dad,” she said, gesturing toward the older man. He was probably a few inches over six feet and had the kind of tanned, chiseled face that you only expect to see on mountain climbers or people who have sailed around the world a couple of times. I could see that his hair under the fedora was black with streaks of gray.
    â€œDad, this is Charlie Harker. He’s Johnny’s brother.”
    â€œMr. Opal,” I said, shaking his hand, which was massive and looked like it could crush mine if he sneezed the wrong way. His grip was surprisingly limp, though, and his skin felt clammy.
    â€œCharlie,” he said, staring down at me from behind a pair of aviator sunglasses.
    â€œDad’s not feeling well. I’m sending him home.”
    â€œIt’s nothing,” Opal said in a flat voice.
    â€œSounds like something’s going around,” I said. “I just spent an hour at Romero’s waiting for my breakfast because one of the waitresses called in sick.”
    â€œOur maître d’ is sick, too,” she said, looking a little concerned.
    â€œIt’s just a head cold. It’s nothing,” Opal said, still staring at me. I saw myself reflected in the silver sheen of his glasses and thought I looked like a person who’d been living on the streets for a few weeks.
    â€œIt’s probably a migraine,” Elizabeth said, as Opal headed for a black Mercedes. “He could barely walk when he woke up this morning, but he seems to be getting better. At least he says he’s feeling better.”
    â€œI am feeling better,” Opal added drily, getting into his car.
    â€œI’m going to follow him home,” she said, as he started up the car and pulled away, “just to make sure he makes it okay.” She was about to get into her Porsche but stopped and added, “Say hi to Johnny for me, okay?”
    â€œSure. Will do,” I said, smiling like an idiot and giving her a thumbs-up. This was the story of my life. In any town we’d ever visited, some girl (or girls) would fall for Johnny, and I’d end up relaying their messages to him. I’m not going to deny it was slightly annoying to be