Adam slips an arm around Zoe and helps her to her feet. “We’re going to change it. All of that stuff she said…it isn’t going to happen.”

“Can we?” She turns to me, her eyes haunted. “Can we change it?”

I open my mouth but don’t have an answer for her. Maybe this is why Aether didn’t want us to look ourselves up. Nothing good can come of knowing our own fate.

We move down the alley until we find a small overhang to hide under. I rub my arms, trying to snap some warmth back into them. My hair is dripping all over me, and my thin T-shirt is soaked through. Zoe still has my jacket, but she’s clinging to Adam and barely holding herself together.

“This is messed up.” Chris rubs a hand over his shaved head. “What do we do?”

“We need to figure out who shot Zoe and why,” I say. “And find out if the rest of us are dead too.”

Trent jerks his head toward me. “You think we’re dead?”

“Maybe.” Probably. All of us except Adam anyway.

“But why would someone do this?” Adam asks.

“I don’t know. Zoe, do you have any idea who would want to kill you?”

She shakes her head, arms wrapped around herself. She’s leaning against a dumpster, sobbing quietly. I don’t blame her. Not only did she see her sister all grown up and working in a strip club of all places, but she just found out she’s going to be dead soon too.

Not just dead—murdered.

“What about your girlfriend?” I ask. “Would she…?”

Zoe whips her head back and forth. “No, definitely not. Never.”

“What about ex-girlfriends?” Trent asks. “Or, uh, ex-boyfriends?”

She sniffs. “I have both but…I don’t think any of them would want to kill me.”

Adam rubs her shoulder. “It’s going to be okay.” He pleads with his eyes, like he wants me to help somehow. I’m not sure what he expects me to do. I’m not exactly a touchy-feely person at the best of times, and I’m barely keeping it together myself.

I lightly pat Zoe’s arm. “Don’t worry,” I say, fumbling for comforting words. “We’re going to figure this out.” Man, I suck at this. But Zoe wipes her face on her sleeve and nods. Adam gives me a thumbs-up, but I didn’t really do anything.

Rain thumps against the roof above and on the metal dumpsters around us. I shiver again and want to ask for my jacket, but Zoe stares into space, oblivious. I know I should say something, but the vacant look in her eyes stops me. At least she’s stopped crying now.

Adam takes off his jacket and offers it to me. “Here.”