“I need to get back to Cora,” Mara said and stood abruptly.

“May I peek in on her?” I asked. “See how she’s feeling?” Mara nodded weakly and the three of us took the elevator back down. When we got to Cora’s room, Cora already had a visitor.

Kendall, dressed in her street clothes, sat on the edge of Cora’s bed. “Kendall, honey?” Mara asked. “What are you doing here?” She looked at me in confusion.

“It’s okay, Mom,” Kendall said. “One of the nurses walked me down. She’s waiting outside. I’m fine.”

Kendall looked far from fine. Dark circles beneath her eyes told me she hadn’t gotten much rest. Her hair hung lankly on her shoulders and was streaked black with what I suspected was the charcoal used to pump her stomach.

Cora didn’t look much better. Her left eye was heavily bandaged and the wounds on her scalp and face had crusted over but she was awake and sitting up in her bed.

Alarm bells went off in my head. Kendall was getting ready to tell her parents what she had done to Cora. “Kendall,” I began, “I don’t think this is the time.” I had hoped that when Kendall was ready to tell her parents about her role in posing as Joseph Wither it wouldn’t be in front of Cora. I didn’t think Cora was ready to hear this.

“But I need to,” Kendall said in a tremulous voice. “If I don’t do it now, I don’t think I ever will.”

“Kendall.” I shook my head. “Let’s wait until we can talk to your mom and dad privately.”

“What is it?” Mara interrupted.

“Mara,” I tried again, “I think this is a conversation best left for—”

“No, let her talk,” Mara said. “You know you can tell me anything, Kendall. Anything at all.”

I demurred, perhaps my biggest mistake, and reluctantly moved to the corner of the room where I’d be out of the way.

“It’s my fault,” Kendall said. “What happened to Cora.” Tears filled her eyes and she took a shuddery breath.

“There’s nothing you could have done to stop what happened, Kendall. It isn’t your fault.” Mara pulled a chair up next to Kendall and reached for her hand.

Kendall shook her head. “No, it’s my fault. And Emery’s. We were the ones who sent the messages.”

“I don’t understand,” Mara said. “What messages?”

“Online. On a website. We pretended to be Joseph Wither. But then I stopped and Emery kept doing it. I swear I didn’t know. She told Cora that Wither would be at the depot.” The tears fell and Kendall looked pleadingly at her sister. “It was just a joke. I don’t know who went to the depot but it wasn’t me. It wasn’t Emery.”