I looked at it again, then flipped to other pages, but there was neither a stoplight nor a stop sign anywhere else in the book.

“You have to admit it’s a weird coincidence,” Katie said. “Right?”

It was more than weird, which meant it might not have been coincidence at all. I was simultaneously relieved to think that I might not be alone, and terrified to think that this might be bigger than just me.

Katie was looking at me as if I’d give her a satisfactory answer to this mystery, or at least lay out a course of action. And as I looked at her, I couldn’t help but notice that she wasn’t looking all glamour girl today.

“So where’s Layton?” I asked. “I thought you guys were joined at the hip?”

She looked away. “He’s off on a fishing trip this weekend.”

I nodded. “Well, that explains it,” I said. I had meant to only think it, but it came burbling out under my breath.

Katie looked at me with that slightly narrowed kind of gaze that meant a cold front might be rolling in. “Explains what?”

I knew I couldn’t backpedal or make something up. I had said it; I needed to own it.

“It explains why you’re looking more like yourself today,” I told her. And when her eyes didn’t un-narrow, I sighed and said, “You know, without all the makeup. I mean, I know it’s not my business, but you don’t need it.”

That did nothing to stall the cold front. She glared at me. “Oh really? Well, I’m wearing makeup right now, so maybe you’re not as observant as you think.”

“Not as much,” I said. “Not nearly as much. But you’re right—it’s not my business. I’m sorry I said anything.”

“You should be.”

“I am.”

Well, at least this means the makeup wasn’t to hide bruises, I thought—and this time I actually thought it instead of saying it out loud. I had always just assumed that Layton was drawn to girls with intense cosmetic precision. Now I realized that he demanded it, whether they were like that or not. It made me angry, because why would Katie, who certainly was her own person, allow that to happen? Why would she let Layton dictate the terms of her own appearance?

Katie’s gaze didn’t quite soften. It just relented. Like the chill of it had gotten to her as well. “Don’t think you know everything,” Katie said firmly. “Because you don’t.”

And because she was absolutely right, I changed the subject.

“Here’s something I do know,” I said. “Yesterday I lived in a small tract home with mold problems on the south side of town.”

The non sequitur caught her by surprise. “What are you even talking about?”