Her dad didn’t have a chance to object. Maggie pushed his bicycle’s handlebars, wheeling him backward so she could get the picture. She pretended to take a photo of her dad. His face was in the frame, but Maggie was really trying to get a clear shot of the couple.

They were in the shadows, the neon from the sign casting a glow over the woman. Just as Maggie was taking the shot, the man covered his face with his hand. The woman seemed to fix her eyes on Maggie.

“We need to go,” Maggie said. She turned, climbed on the bike, and started to ride away, her father right behind her. She didn’t look back.

CHAPTER 54

MATT PINE

Four coffins were stationed at the far end of the church, but it was the fourth one—the tiny wooden box—that caused each and every mourner to gasp as they entered First Presbyterian Church. The stained glass, the same windows Matt used to stare at bored out of his mind on the Sundays of his youth, dulled the light, fitting the gloomy occasion.

The place was packed, though Matt didn’t recognize many of the bereaved. Several had the grooming of television news reporters, hair helmeted with too much hair spray. Faces too tan for the spring. His aunt said they were going to keep out the media and gawkers and grief junkies, but there was only so much they could do. Despite the Pines’ persona non grata status, several townspeople filled the pews.

As Matt paced the long aisle, he could feel the eyes on him, hear the murmurs as he walked toward the four caskets. He just looked ahead, feeling distant, vaguely out-of-body.

When he reached the front, Aunt Cindy patted the open space on the pew. Next to her was his grandfather, with a faraway expression, his Jamaican nurse looking more grief-stricken than Charlie. Next to Grandpa was the governor, Mom’s old friend. With the prison refusing to allow Danny to attend the ceremony, that was it, the Pine contingent.

After lowering himself to the pew, Matt felt hands on his shoulders. He turned and it was Kala. Next to her, the rest of the Misfit Toys. All were dressed conservatively, something he’d never seen before in all their time together. Even Ganesh was in a suit—an expensive one, by the looks of it—the contrast with his unruly hair and unshaven face giving him the look of a tech mogul. Curtis’s head was bowed in prayer. Woo-jin looked like a giant next to Sofia, whose makeup was already streaked down her face. Matt gave them a nod and turned back.

He stared at the caskets again. They were simple, understated. Despite her beauty, Matt’s mother had hated flash. When his aunt had emailed him the catalog of coffins, it had taken Matt only a moment to choose.