I shift, uncomfortable under her expressionless gaze. I want her to turn those strange eyes somewhere else so I don’t have to look at her. I want to ask her why her eyes are red and why she’s sleeping so much, but some part of me thinks I already know these answers. I don’t want them spoken out loud.

“What are you looking at?” I ask her.

She smiles that strange, otherworldly smile, but says nothing. The dread in my stomach turns to ice. And then stone. What was she looking for in Brecken’s bag? Was she the one who planted the book? Is it possible she’s behind this and we just haven’t found our things?

Does she have my phone?

Without warning, Kayla’s eyelids flutter and she drops her head back to the headrest with a sigh. The snores begin within seconds, and this time I know she isn’t sick. Or tired. This is something else.

“I didn’t know,” Harper says softly. She reaches over the seat and touches my shoulder. It’s light and quick, but it’s an indicator that this apology is meant for me. I don’t need it. I have no idea why she acts like this with me.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“I didn’t know about…” Harper’s eyes flick to Kayla meaningfully. “I wouldn’t have asked her to come if I knew she was…”

Harper lets the words trail into nothing. But I can fill in the blanks. Kayla is on something. I don’t know what, but everything about this screams user.

Brecken sighs, voicing my suspicions in a flat voice. “Girl’s got junkie written all over her.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Harper says, but she doesn’t disagree. “It’s just…you’re a sweetheart, Mira. And you’re young. I would have never dragged you into this if I’d known.”

“Of course you didn’t know,” I say softly, wanting her to move on. Wondering if she knows how young I actually am. It doesn’t matter. I don’t want her treating me like someone who needs looking after. “I made my own choice to be here. It’s not on you.”

“Look, I get what it looks like,” Josh says, “but maybe this isn’t what we think.”

He taps his bare wrist meaningfully and then points at Kayla’s arm. It’s flopped over her lap like a forgotten rag. A thick, dull silver bracelet sits halfway between her wrist and her elbow.

A medical alert bracelet.

Guilt pricks at the back of my neck. Zari’s brother Jayden has a similar bracelet for allergies. I should have noticed that. God, am I so removed from my old life that I miss things like this?

“I didn’t even see that,” I say.

“Me either,” Harper adds.