Over time, Matt’s loneliness mutated into a medley of anger and resentment, and he started getting into fights. He had a pang of guilt remembering that it was a fight—on the schoolyard after his brother’s conviction—that was the inciting incident for their family’s move to Illinois, his parents deciding it was time to get out of Dodge. For the most part, Matt had managed to keep the beast caged since high school, that side of himself hidden from everyone—well, nearly everyone. After returning from winter break and a massive blowout with his father, a frat boy had made the mistake of saying something disgusting to Jane at a party. Matt pictured the kid’s bloody face, Jane crying for Matt to stop, yanking him away.

Matt sat up, clicked on the television. At four thirty, it was channel after channel of infomercials and lawyers asking, “Have you been injured in an accident?”

When he couldn’t take it anymore, he decided to go for a run. Exercise always helped him focus. It slowed down his thoughts, burned off nervous energy. Kept the beast at bay. This early it would also allow him to slip into his dorm before the paparazzi arrived for the morning shift.

He went into Ganesh’s room. His friend wouldn’t mind if he borrowed some workout clothes. Inside the messy dresser, he fished out a wrinkled Under Armour shirt and pair of shorts. Ganesh was a big guy—he’d gained thirty pounds since freshman year, a by-product of the munchies from all the weed—so Matt was swimming in the clothes. But he didn’t plan on seeing anyone, so they’d do.

He took the filthy stairwell to the ground floor and jogged under pools of lamplight along Seventh. The pavement felt good under his feet. The clouds had rolled away and the air smelled fresh.

He picked up his pace when he hit Cooper Square, running on the cracked sidewalks, crossing the street speckled with orange construction cones from the never-ending roadwork. By the time he saw the arch of Washington Square Park, he was saturated in sweat and his thoughts were clearer. He started formulating a plan.

He’d use the credit card, the one his parents had given him for emergencies—real emergencies, his mother had joked, not pizza emergencies—for the trip to Mexico. Keller said the authorities just needed his signature, and he’d get his family home. He’d call his aunt to discuss the arrangements. Aunt Cindy was a strong personality and would have views. He needed to call her anyway, to check on her and his grandfather. When he got back from Mexico, he’d figure out the house, the cars, the finances, returning to school, Danny.

He was starting to feel overwhelmed again.