It would have been so nice to be able to talk to someone about everything. To come clean about Mom, about my suspicions of Dad, about my synesthesia, about my fears of Luna. Dru wouldn’t have understood anything, but he would have listened. Peyton would have understood everything. Didn’t matter. Neither of them was around anymore, anyway. Which left me with Chris to confide in.

How did I confide in a cop about how the cops had failed me my whole life?

How did I confide in him about my synesthesia after all this time?

Impossible. I got up and took a shower, taking as long as humanly possible to wash myself and get dressed. I heard Dad plod around the house, opening cabinets and shutting doors and turning faucets off and on. Eventually, I heard the front door open and close again, and then the sound of the garage door whining its way up and down. And then silence. It was just me.

Even with Hue around, it wasn’t easy to be just me in the house ever since I had been attacked in my kitchen. Twice. I always felt unseen eyes on me; heard breathing that didn’t exist in reality. Or maybe it did. Being home alone put me on edge. But then again, so did being home with Dad these days. So did everything.

I went downstairs and made myself a couple of pieces of toast, called Hue to my side, then spent half an hour or so trolling social media for Shelby Gray and any mention of Luna. Looked like Shelby had been busy being very Shelby—cavorting around the city in party mode, everything about her looking just a little bit better-than. Her black-hole eyes never smiled in any of the photographs—it was almost as if every smile was meant to convey power more than happiness. I scrolled through everything she had. No Luna. If they were hanging together, Shelby was being discreet about it.

Of course she was. Shelby Gray was no idiot. She knew that if Luna was found by authorities, it would be very bad for both of them. Luna would get sent back to juvie; Shelby would be locked up right along with her, and worse—she would be stuck being almost-but-never-quite-enough without Hollis fame to back her up.

I finished my toast and turned off my phone, and was just heading into Dad’s office for yet another round of You Will Never Crack This Code on the locked box under his desk, when my phone rang.

It was Chris.

“You find something?” I asked, skipping all pleasantries.

“Hello to you, too.”

I rolled my eyes. He could be a real baby sometimes. “Hi. How is your first day back going?”

“Going really, really good, actually. I remembered something.”