“My grandma had Parkinson’s,” Ajay said. “She got things confused. A few times she even hallucinated.” Tears sparked his eyes at her memory. “Have you ever seen one of his hands trembling?”

“No.” She exhaled heavily. “But I haven’t seen him in person for a long time.”

“Does Bob have a friend you could call? Someone you could ask to check on him?”

“He must have friends,” she said, her tone uncertain. “But I don’t know them or even who they are. We only ever talked about the books.”

“Do you know where he lives?”

“About twenty miles outside of Portland. It’s pretty private. I’ve only been there once, with my dad. Bob bought the acreage on either side so he wouldn’t have to deal with neighbors.”

“Okay,” Ajay said. “How about this? If you haven’t heard from him by the last bell, I say we go out there.” He would think of some excuse to text his mom, ideally something about studying.

Her expression brightened. “You don’t think I’m overreacting?”

He shook his head. “The part about your parents is too weird. And even if it is an overreaction, what’s the worst that can happen? He’ll explain, and we’ll leave.” It was a relief that they were a team again. “We can take an Uber or something.”

Bridget straightened up. “We can take my dad’s car.”

DERRICK

A Sense of Unreality

Something had happened yesterday between Bridget and Ajay. Derrick’s heart had sunk at the sight of Ajay’s present as he watched them through the cafeteria window. But whatever was inside had not brought a smile to Bridget’s face. Instead, she had looked like she was … hurt? Was that the right word?

And last night, when Bob had asked him to send the message to her, something about that pained emotion as well as her bland reaction to when he had mentioned Bob had reassured Derrick that it was okay to send the message. Derrick had also decided it was wiser not to consult his mom beforehand. Better to ask for forgiveness than permission.

Today, Bridget walked into physics class, not downcast, but rather animated. Quick movements, an urgent hissed conversation with Ajay. And then they ate lunch together, an activity Derrick had hoped would become a thing of the past. But the first thing Bridget did was hand Ajay her phone.

Derrick took out his own phone, already feeling dread and anger meet in his stomach, forming a pit of acid. And then he logged in to Bob’s email box.

A sense of unreality filled Derrick as he read Bridget’s confused reply. It was clear Bob’s message had been more than it appeared. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have fallen for Bob’s lies? The man was a professional storyteller, after all.