After sliding into the passenger’s side, I remove my hood and pat down my hair. “It’s okay.”

Zoe turns the key in the ignition, taking the time to make sure she’s in reverse before pulling out of her spot. It’s silent as she directs us away from the school, and I look out at the streets that are becoming steadily familiar. Pender Falls isn’t that big. When you look at it on a map, it appears as though it wouldn’t take that long to see all of it. It’s odd how a place so small can contain so much mystery. When the wind blows through the trees, it’s almost like the sound of secrets being whispered among the leaves.

Zoe peeks at me out of the corner of her eye. “You were with Mason again this morning.” I don’t respond, squirming in my seat. “You were with him at your party too.”

“I’m surprised you noticed.”

She crinkles her nose as we round the corner. “Still sore about that, huh?”

“Possibly.”

“Is something going on between you? You had that dream about him too.”

“No!” I protest, cheeks burning. “Why would you think that? I barely know him.”

Zoe shrugs innocently, pulling up to the coffee shop that Audrey and I walked past yesterday. I find myself looking over my shoulder, hoping that Officer Edwards won’t make a reappearance. We exit the vehicle, ducking under the overhang of the shop roofs to escape the rain. She pulls open the door to the coffee shop, gesturing for me to go first, and I step inside.

The air inside is significantly warmer, and the smell of espresso and coffee beans reaches my nose, making me feel a little less on edge. For the past week, my body has been a tightly wound coil of tension, and I can’t get it to unravel.

“The two of you have a weird vibe,” Zoe remarks, and I take a break from perusing the menu to give her a look. “I’m not blind, Allie. I remember you saying you were friends in elementary school, but that was ages ago. What’s up with you guys now?”

“I don’t really know,” I admit.

An unreadable expression crosses over her features. “Kind of odd, isn’t it?”

“What is?”

She gestures as if it should be obvious. “You weren’t friends for years, and now that you suddenly lost your memory, he wants to reconnect? It just seems kind of suspicious to me.”

I frown, pondering the accusation, and she steps up to the counter to order two Americano mistos. As we wait for our drinks at the side, I listen to the gentle music floating down from the speakers and the coffee grinder.

“I don’t think that’s what he’s after,” I say. “It doesn’t seem like he wants to be my friend.”