Satisfaction filled me as I yanked open Ace’s truck and got my phone and wallet. The soft leather was still warm from the ride over here, and it made an uncomfortable bump when I shoved it in a back pocket. The door squeaked as I slammed it shut. In the distance, I heard a faint, “Bye, Madison!” Happy, I leaned against the truck and stared at the plain white stars while I waited for Nakita and Barnabas to finish threatening Ace. Sure, Barnabas might be mad at me, but he’d get me home, grumbling all the way. If he didn’t, Nakita would. Even better, he’d be on my roof tomorrow to tell me what I could have done better. No one had died tonight. No one would die tomorrow—at least, not before their allotted time was up. Shoe was going to catch hell at school, but he’d known that before he trashed the school’s computers. Nakita was starting to understand—I think—even if by all accounts she had failed in her attempt to save Ace’s soul by taking it early. Ace was still an ass, but maybe he’d learned something. Paul was thinking. And I was…pleasantly tired.

Maybe it was a good night after all.

Epilogue

“Madison!”

It was a panicked shout, and my eyes flew open at the strong shake of my shoulder.

“What!” I shouted back, seeing my dad standing over me, fear on his face. I was in my bed; the sun was shining in. I had been…sleeping? I hadn’t slept in almost three months.

Relief cascaded over my dad’s face to make his few wrinkles appear deeper. “I thought you were—” he started, then visibly changed his mind as he let go of my shoulder and straightened. “You’re late,” he said instead, sounding embarrassed. “For school,” he added, and I smiled. I hadn’t thought he meant the dead kind of late, but then again, I’d probably looked dead, lying there. Not breathing. No wonder he’d shaken me.

“How late?” I asked as I sat up, blinking. I couldn’t believe I’d actually slept. Maybe the flash forward had triggered it. It had taken a lot out of me.

Exhaling, my dad looked over my room. “Breakfast is ready,” he said instead of answering me.

Too bad I wasn’t hungry.

I started to get up, then froze when he picked up the lab coat I’d draped over my desk chair. The Jane Doe toe tag was peeping out of the pocket, and I panicked. How was I going to explain a clearly professional lab coat with the name Marty on it was beyond me.

“Tell me this is ketchup,” he said softly, fingering the stained fabric, and I smiled.