Shepard shakes his head. He looks uncomfortable. Shepard should look uncomfortable—why is he still here? Snow told me that Shepard was only staying for a few days; Penelope owes him a favour of some sort. I assumed he’d be off breaking bread with dragons by now.

“I don’t have time for this, Bunce. Just tell me where Simon is.”

“He left you this note,” she says, proffering a yellow envelope.

I open it, and take out a matching card. Where did Simon get stationery? Did he purchase stationery for the purpose of writing me this confounding note? It hardly counts as a note, anyway. All it says is, Baz, I’m sorry.

“He’s sorry?” I hold the note up to Penelope. “What does that mean?”

She won’t look at me. “He doesn’t want to see us right now.”

She isn’t making sense. This doesn’t make sense.

“What?”

I think Bunce has been crying. Her eyes are red, and she looks haggard. “He says he needs time,” she says.

“Time isn’t something a person needs, Penelope. Time is a constant.”

“You know what I mean—”

“No. I don’t. I don’t know what any of this means! Are you telling me that Snow moved out?”

Her chin is wobbling. “I think he’s lost, Baz.”

“Because you lost him, Bunce!” I’m charging into Simon’s bedroom. “I left him with you for a week, and you lost him!”

She’s right—Snow’s things are gone. He didn’t have much, but it’s all gone. His duffel bag, his books, all of his grotty T-shirts with the slits cut down the back.

Penelope has followed me as far as the doorway. “I didn’t lose him—he decided to leave. Simon is an adult.”

“Oh, for snake’s sake. He is not. He’s a walking catastrophe!” I turn to her, my palms held out in frustration. “You know that! You taught me that! The only thing for it is to never let him out of your sight. Come on.” I point past her. “Put on your shoes. Let’s find Snow.”

“No.” Bunce’s arms are folded. She’s crying.

I’m not crying. This is all too ludicrous to cry about. “What do you mean ‘no’? Why aren’t you making any sense tonight?”

Bunce looks like she hasn’t slept or brushed her hair since the last time I saw her. She shakes her head, and her bedraggled ponytail swings from side to side. “No, I’m not going to chase him. No, I’m not going to make him come back. No, I’m not going to make him do anything. If Simon wants space, I’m going to give it to him.”

“Space, is it? Did he say he needs space?”

“Yes.”

“People don’t need space, Penelope!” I’m shouting. “They need people! Simon needs us!”