Clare took a right, ready to head back into the noise and chaos—but stopped. She heard someone’s voice, low and trying to be quiet, behind one of the doors farther down the hall. Clare turned back around; it was probably just someone getting together in one of the dark bedrooms, but for some reason, her heart beat a little faster and her arms felt weak. She took a step into the darkness, the sound of the whispers becoming clearer.

“Are you sure?” someone asked.

“Yes,” another voice answered.

Clare stood right outside the door, her hands on the frame, bracing herself. She shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but in the moment, some morbid pull she couldn’t explain held her there. Just someone else’s gossip, she rationalized. Except her body, already picking up alerts of the imminent crash, sent a flood of panic to warn her.

The sounds of the two people on the other side of the door, kissing, their bodies shifting in the dark, the unmistakable sound of a zipper being pulled. Clare wished one of them would at least give away a name. That way she’d have some substantial dirt for Kaylee. When she heard the rhythmic, repetitive sound of what could only be the sex the two people were now having, and then the hard crash of a headboard hitting the wall behind it, Clare decided enough was enough—time to go.

“Adam,” the girl said.

Clare froze. Her chest felt like a vise squeezing her lungs, holding her breath tight. She shook her head once, as if to clear it of some horrific impossibility forming at the brink of her consciousness.

She turned back to the door, her hand on the brass knob turning, turning, turning, until she pushed the door, slow, uncertain, wishing she could just walk away. Standing in the doorway, she could see them now, in the dark, their bodies moving together beneath the blankets on the bed. Her right hand slipped up the wall, found the switch, and pushed.

In an instant, the room was washed in the bright, incandescent glow from the ceiling light above. Clare saw the last thrust beneath the blanket before the couple scrambled to move apart, stay covered, and figure out what the hell was going on.

Adam turned over and stared directly into Clare’s eyes.

Beside him, Heather Roberts’s face peered over the arm he’d placed protectively to shield her from discovery.

Her heart beat, once, twice, three times. Clare swallowed, her throat dry and tight.

“Clare,” Adam said. “I’m sorry…” He sat up, his naked legs falling over the side of the bed so he could get up.

She backed out of the doorway as Adam scanned the floor for his pants. They were crumpled at the end of the bed, out of his immediate sight. For half a second, she almost moved to pick them up and hand them to him.