“I have to tell Mom about this,” she says gently. “I’m sorry.”

“Audrey,” I protest.

She grabs our books from the backseat, pursing her lips. “That wasn’t normal.”

“Nothing about any of this is normal,” I remind her.

“It’s better to be safe than sorry, okay?” She gets out of the car and heads into the house, and I sigh in defeat.

There’s no doubt my brain is trying to show me images of the night everything changed, but it’s harrowing to only receive tiny fragments at a time. In every story I’ve been told of what took place, there’s never been mention of anyone else being there. I was driving alone. I hit a tree. Nobody found me until the morning.

But the question I heard was undoubtedly directed at someone else. And, paired with Officer Edwards’s accusation, it’s becoming clear I’m not the only one involved in what happened that night.

12 | Isolate

On Monday morning, I make my way to the English classroom feeling as though I have some sort of identifying mark that lets everyone know all of their attention should be focused on me.

I know it’s mostly in my head, as I’m not receiving any more looks than a typical day at school, but walking alone after what happened on Friday makes it feel vastly different. I haven’t heard from Zoe or James since I left Damien’s house.

There’s no doubt that the ending of my relationship with Damien has thrown a wrench in our dynamic. It was a far cry from an amicable split, and he’s had plenty of time to tell them about how I broke his heart.

As if I accidentally summoned him, I catch a glimpse of the boy himself at the opposite end of the hallway, propped up by crutches as James fetches his books from his locker and Zoe rubs his back soothingly. The sight causes me to stiffen, feeling like the lines have been drawn. I fully anticipated James sticking with his best friend, but there was a part of me that thought Zoe would have at least reached out.

Damien spots me, his expression desperate and forlorn, and I’m quick to look away, hurrying toward my first class. The seat next to mine is noticeably empty, and I feel a tug of disappointment. I was hoping to see at least one friendly face today.

Zoe slides into the classroom right before the final bell rings; I can tell she looks at me, but I pretend not to notice. Class begins, and the room fills with different voices as we come to the end of Macbeth. My mind is elsewhere. Ever since my conversation with Officer Edwards and the resulting vision, it’s been hard to focus on anything for longer than a couple of seconds.