When she spots me, she hangs up without saying good-bye and slips the phone into a pocket. She hesitates for a fraction of a second before unlocking the door.

“Abby.” Today, she is dressed the part of vice principal, in a cheap pantsuit and a lavender blouse. “You pop up everywhere, don’t you? I’m starting to think you might be following me.”

“Small town. You said it yourself—there’s nothing else to do but be in everybody’s business. Besides, it isn’t every day Barrens gets a community center.”

“True enough. But we’re not actually open yet. Can I help you with something?”

Last night, Brent told me that after Kaycee left, Misha had told him that she’d wanted a clean break. But if Kaycee confessed her desire to disappear, she might have confessed other things.

“I was supposed to meet somebody from Optimal for a tour before opening,” I lie, seizing the opportunity to talk to her. “I made an appointment, but I’m afraid she thought I said yesterday. No wonder she’s not picking up my phone calls.”

She hesitates again, then bumps the door open a little wider with her hip. “Come on,” she says. “Although there isn’t much to see. Only the first phase is complete.”

“I was so curious. What an ambitious project.”

“Oh, this isn’t half of it. Eventually, we’ll have a reception venue, plus a gym for after-school sports programs. Classrooms for alternative education, too.”

The building is expansive, open, and airy, and sunlight filters through the skylights.

“Wow. It’s…” Ugly. The kind of ugliness only a shit ton of money can produce. But of course I won’t say that. “Ambitious. Doesn’t even feel like Barrens in here, does it? Must be costing a fortune,” I say brightly.

Her eyes slide to mine only briefly. “Optimal is financing most of the project,” she says. “We’ve got government grants as well. Taxes pay for the rest.”

“You seem very…passionate.” What I actually mean is: very involved.

“Principal Andrews and I both pushed for it. Before, our students had nowhere to go and nothing to do after school,” she says. “Often their home lives are a big part of the problem. When there’s nothing else to do…Idle hands find trouble.” She reaches a door that points the way to the theater stage, and again she holds the door open for me.

“Have you ever thought it might be a problem that so many people depend on one company?” I keep my voice casual, as if I’m just thinking the question myself.

She glances at me. “Why would it be a problem?”

“For years Optimal has been dogged by rumors of pollution, of corruption, cover-ups.”

“Rumors aren’t facts, Abby. Thank God. Otherwise we all would have been in trouble in high school. You especially.”

That’s another point to Misha. I smile as sweetly as possible. “True. And smoke isn’t fire. But sometimes where there’s one, there’s the other…No one wants to hold Optimal accountable. In fact, no one will even entertain it.”