I know what she means, but I do it anyway. Then we talk until Emily’s whispers turn to snores.

At midnight, I turn the camera off and put it back in my suitcase.

I thought the first day here would be the hardest, because the world was watching, but no one seemed to care.

We all let go and acted like kangaroos and talked honestly, and if we were that open with a camera in our face, I can’t wait for the rest of the week.

Chapter 65

After breakfast, Mr. Humphries asks us to line up outside. When he starts reading our names, two at a time, my stomach flips.

“Jess,” he says. “You’re with Bernie today.”

We exchange looks, then stare at the ground, and I wonder if she feels as awkward as I do.

Bernie, my old best friend, one-third of a group we assumed was more special than it turned out to be.

I hope I never think of Emily and Hanna like that—as a moment in time, a hobby we grew out of.

I haven’t really spoken to Bernie since we were kids. We were inseparable when she lived next door. Then her mom remarried and they moved to Harmony. Although it was only a bus ride away, she changed schools, and by the time we arrived at St. Anthony’s, we were strangers.

I guess we were drifting apart even before she moved, when Bernie was kept away from the girl with the murdered mom as if tragedy were contagious. So basically this pairing could have been better.

“This is a spirit walk,” Andrea says. “Be as open and honest as you wish. But try to enjoy it.”

I look at Emily, who’s been paired with Yinka, and she nods at Bernie and mouths, “Awkward.”

The way every friendship group has been split, you know Mr. Humphries fixed it. But after last night, I shouldn’t have been surprised.

Mayfield Lodge is surrounded by countryside, and every five minutes, they send another pair through the gates, one going right, the next left, then right again.

“If you bump into another pair, just keep walking,” Andrea says. “This is a two-person exercise.”

“What should we talk about?” Austin asks.

Andrea smiles. “Everything. Off you go,” she tells us, and Bernie starts walking without looking at me.

Emily laughs and I roll my eyes, then follow.

Everywhere, there are cows and sheep and huge green fields. It feels like Harmony, only there’s no sea breeze and no sound of the waves, only the gentle buzz of insects and birds singing.

For a long time, we don’t say anything. We look the other way and pretend this isn’t weird. Our conversations ran out a long time ago. But not talking is making me feel sick, so I say a few things in my head, then one out loud.

“I’m glad I came,” I say.