I pat his shoulder half comfortingly, half jokingly, and his hand reaches up to cover mine, holding it in place. Neither of us says anything. The thread between us glows bright and I know what this means to him. A curse has been broken, and Alex, Valerie, and I are probably the only ones who understand what this night has cost Nolan.

We listen to plastic chests full of slushy melted ice and water being poured into flower beds, the sleepy mutterings of cotton candy machine operators, and—distantly—a barking Wally who has eaten his fill of discarded nachos and hot dog buns. Alex is still dancing along the periphery of the bazaar, collecting blue pouches of cash and tickets.

“You okay?” Nolan asks, his voice hoarse from talking to the entirety of Lochbrook and then some.

“I am,” I say. My surprise at this truth warms my voice. “Are you?”

He looks up at me, his eyes crinkling at the corners when he says, “I guess not everything sucks.”

When Nolan recuperates enough to rise from the table, we stand close together, the tips of his fingers nudging my side as we look up at the stars through the puffs of firework smoke lingering in the sky. I slip my hand firmly into his and ask, “What did you tell her? That little girl?”

He laughs. “What she wanted to know, of course.”

I drop his hand without thinking and turn to face him, but his gaze stays focused on the heavens.

“You told her what happens to the girls in Orman? Really?”

He’s quiet for a minute. “You never asked why I agreed to the signing,” he says in answer.

“To help Alex,” I say.

“No.”

“To help Valerie?”

He drops his gaze to me, his mouth quirking. In this light, his cheekbones almost look as sharp as they do in his author photo.

“Because if I can do that”—he points at the signing area—“you can do anything.” He reaches down and nudges the camera where it hangs below my chest. “Anything.”

We’re silent, Nolan staring at me until I drop my gaze to fiddle with the camera lens.

“It’s not that simple,” I say. I can’t meet his eyes, so I speak to the camera. “It sounds cheesy, but it’s true. If your sisters had asked you to do one thing before they died, something totally in your power, that wouldn’t hurt you and might even help you … wouldn’t you do it? For them?”

Nolan doesn’t answer. It is answer enough.

“I have to go tomorrow,” I say. “I can’t stay, Nolan. You know that, right?”

He reaches down and squeezes my hand.

“Nolan,” I try again. “I need you to—”

“Shh,” he says. “Pretend with me.”