“Did you see Max while you were out?” I ask Violet as she pulls on the socks. “Near the train yard?” Violet shakes her head and looks like she wants to tell me more but doesn’t say anything. “What?” I ask. “This is important. Did you see a car near the train yard this morning, Violet?”

“It’s hard to remember,” Violet says as we move into the corridor and toward the exit where Officer Grady will be waiting for us.

“You need to remember,” I say more sharply than I mean to and Violet flinches as if I slapped her. “We just need to be as helpful as we can.” I soften my voice. “For Cora’s sake.”

I want to reach for Violet’s hand. I want to go back to a time when the warmth of our palms pressed together made everything more bearable. But of course there is no way Violet will allow this public display of affection. Instead she veers away from me until we are nearly on opposite sides of the hallway.

By the time we reach the exit, Officer Grady is out front leaning against his car and talking on his cell phone. When he sees us he hangs up and opens the back door. I can’t help but notice all the curious looks we get as we climb inside.

“I just got off the phone with Pitch PD. Max knows you’re on your way,” Officer Grady says, turning on the engine. “Buckle up.”

“Where is she?” Violet asks.

“Who?” I ask. “Cora? She’s with another doctor being taken care of.”

“Jordyn,” Violet says, fidgeting with the seat belt until I reach over and snap it into place for her. I find the question a bit odd, though I’m not sure why. Of course she’d be curious about what happened to her friend. Maybe it’s the tone of her voice—not worried, not concerned. I try to read Violet’s expression but it tells me nothing.

“She was at the police station for questioning but I imagine she’s home by now,” Officer Grady explains as he eases the car from its spot in front of the hospital.

“What did she say?” Violet asks, looking out the window. She’s talking as if she’s asking what’s for lunch.

Officer Grady glances at me through the rearview mirror and our eyes meet. He’s confused by Violet’s reaction, too, and he’s looking to me for help. “Violet, honey,” I say, “are you feeling okay?” I wonder if she might still be in shock, worry that I may have insisted on bringing her home too soon.