Audrey was quick to tell Sofia about my episode, and I know they’re both eager to ship me off to Dr. Meyer again.

“Allie?”

Ms. Warren’s voice cuts through my trance, and I snap to attention, feeling everyone shift in my direction. She looks at me imploringly, nodding her head. “Would you like to share your thoughts?”

“Oh,” I stammer, mouth falling open. “Uh . . .”

Zoe is turned around in her seat, one arm leaning languidly on the back of her chair as she watches me with pursed lips.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t really—”

“I think Lady Macbeth is redeemable,” Zoe cuts in, facing the front, and I blink in confusion. Is this her way of trying to help me out or showing off my incompetence?

Ms. Warren only looks slightly miffed that I’m not the one answering but nods for Zoe to continue.

“Throughout the play, we hear her suggest all of these wicked things, and it was her idea to take out King Duncan in the first place,” she says, her tone firm and sure of itself. “But when it came down to it, she wasn’t the one to follow through. And while Macbeth was on his killing spree, she was left to suffer in her guilt.”

A hush has fallen over the room, and I stare at the back of Zoe’s head at her sleek, blond hair that never seems to look anything less than perfect and the pressed blazer that frames her shoulders.

“In the end, her guilt consumed her,” she finishes, softer now. “She made a mistake, and it ruined her life. But I don’t think she’s as bad as everyone says she is.”

Her statement reminds me of what she said to me during our conversation about Jacob Griffin. People do what they have to in order to get what they want. It doesn’t define them. I wonder if she’s trying to comfort me again.

Ms. Warren nods thoughtfully, considering the words. “Very interesting perspective, Zoe.”

Class continues on, and when it’s over, I’m quick to rise from my seat, gathering my things and heading straight for my locker. After tucking away my English books, I find myself drawn to the photo of Zoe and me taped to the inside of the door.

Closing the locker with a sigh, I step back, preparing to head to calculus.

“Alina.”

I startle slightly, turning to see Mason Byrne standing next to me, a look of urgency on his face.

“Hey,” I greet him, unable to hide the surprise in my voice. He glances around the hallway, seeming distracted. “You weren’t in class.”

“Slept in,” he says, his voice low, before taking a step closer. “Listen, I need to talk to you.”

“Okay,” I say slowly, laughing with uncertainty. “Talk to me.”

He shakes his head, solemn. “Not here.”