“Trent?” I take a step forward, the floor groaning under my weight. A thick layer of dust and cobwebs hangs over everything, and I imagine there must be rats and spiders and God knows what else living here. But I don’t see any sign of Trent. Maybe this isn’t the place.

I creep farther inside and swing the light—and see a shape in the corner. A lump.

I hold my breath, terrified of what I might be looking at, but it’s just a pile of blankets surrounded by trash. But as I get closer, I realize it’s not trash. It’s clothes and library books and empty packs of cigarettes. Something shiny and metallic catches the light from within the blankets. I bend down and pick it up. Trent’s silver lighter.

This is the place. Trent must be squatting here—but where is he? I can’t imagine he’d leave his lighter behind, not when he played with it constantly. This is wrong, all wrong. I shouldn’t be here. I need to get the hell out of this place, but I have to know what happened to Trent. I have to know he’s okay.

A creak behind me makes me drop the lighter and spin around, heart pounding. I wave the flashlight all over the place but don’t see anything in the darkness. I do another sweep, just to be sure.

The light flashes over a tiny, dark spot on the wall across from me that seems out of place somehow. I inch closer, both drawn to the spot and repulsed by it. As I move my light, I see more tiny spots across the wall…and some of them are dripping.

My mind screams, No, no, no, but I keep moving the light down, following the trail to a puddle of inky wet darkness at my feet.

I jump back, crying out. It’s blood; it has to be. Panic makes my legs move, and then I’m in front of the building on the other side of the fence—with no idea how I got there. I bend over, clutching my side and trying not to vomit on my shoes. I can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t stop shaking.

Because even though there was no body, I know, I know in my heart that Trent is dead.

The dumpster is a few blocks away, behind a Thai restaurant. I remember the location from the reports in Future-Adam’s safe. Maybe I should have come here first, but I have to believe that Trent is still alive. I have to hang on to the shred of hope that his body won’t be in the dumpster or that he’ll be injured and not dead, and I can somehow still save him. Otherwise it will all be for nothing.

And I’m not ready to give up yet.