Barbara says, “I can’t just go back to school and pretend Lowtown doesn’t exist. If I’m going to live, I have to do something. Young or not, I have to do something.”

“Are you thinking about some kind of volunteer work?”

“I don’t know what I’m thinking about. I don’t know what there is for a kid like me. But I’m going to find out. If it means going back down there, my parents won’t like it. You have to help me with them, Holly. I know it’s hard for you, but please. You have to tell them that I need to shut that voice up. Even if I can’t choke it to death right away, maybe I can at least quiet it down.”

“All right,” Holly says, although she dreads it. “I will.” An idea occurs to her and she brightens. “You should talk to the boy who pushed you out of the way of the truck.”

“I don’t know how to find him.”

“Bill will help you,” Holly says. “Now tell me about the game.”

“It broke. The truck ran over it, I saw the pieces, and I’m glad. Every time I close my eyes I can see those fish, especially the pink number-fish, and hear the little song.” She hums it, but it rings no bells with Holly.

A nurse comes in wheeling a meds cart. She asks Barbara what her pain level is. Holly is ashamed she didn’t think to ask herself, and first thing. In some ways she is a very bad and thoughtless person.

“I don’t know,” Barbara says. “A five, maybe?”

The nurse opens a plastic pill tray and hands Barbara a little paper cup. There are two white pills in it. “These are custom-tailored Five pills. You’ll sleep like a baby. At least until I come in to check your pupils.”

Barbara swallows the pills with a sip of water. The nurse tells Holly she should leave soon and let “our girl” get some rest.

“Very soon,” Holly says, and when the nurse is gone, she leans forward, face intent, eyes bright. “The game. How did you get it, Barb?”

“A man gave it to me. I was at the Birch Street Mall with Hilda Carver.”

“When was this?”

“Before Christmas, but not much before. I remember, because I still hadn’t found anything for Jerome, and I was starting to get worried. I saw a nice sport coat in Banana Republic, but it was way expensive, and besides, he’s going to be building houses until May. You don’t have much reason to wear a sport coat when you’re doing that, do you?”

“I guess not.”

“Anyway, this man came up to us while Hilda and I were having lunch. We’re not supposed to talk to strangers, but it’s not like we’re little kids anymore, and besides, it was in the food court with people all around. Also, he looked nice.”

The worst ones usually do, Holly thinks.