She strides to the bathroom, anger in every movement she makes. I drift after her on flimsy legs, Chase two steps behind me. She yanks open the cupboard under the sink, tossing facecloths, toilet paper, bars of soap behind her like a dog digging a furious tunnel. “What did the tin look like?” she asks, peering to the back of the space.

“It’s a Folgers coffee tin.” I put one hand on the doorframe to try to steady myself.

She shakes her head, grunts as she gets even lower to the ground. Behind me, Chase is shivering like a Chihuahua.

Alex, kneeling on the ground, stops searching. “It’s not here.”

“Who’s moved it?” I wail.

“Not me,” says Chase. “I wish I knew where it was, but I don’t.”

Alex sighs. Her hands lay limp in her lap.

“Could someone have gotten into the loft?” Chase asks suddenly. “Has somebody broken in? Or is it possible that maybe Eli’s been and gone?” His brow lightens at the prospect, the poor sheltered boy.

“Chase, do you really think a dealer would just tiptoe in and out?” Alex asks.

Chase glances out the bathroom door, to the huge TV, the expensive stereo system, the easy technology scattered around the apartment. His shoulders sag again.

“She’s right,” I say quietly. “If I can’t find it, I’m in big trouble. Eli will want to punish me.” My whole body is flushing with stress.

Alex stands up, kicks the vanity door shut, and turns on me. It’s all too close, too claustrophobic, all three of us still in the bathroom. “Is this real, this whole drugs-in-a-tin story?” She moves in close to my face. “Or is it another one of your attention-grabbing schemes? Are you looking for more ways to disrupt our lives? To spread a little more fear?”

“What? No!”

“Or is it that you want us all to feel sorry for you again? To huddle around you protectively?”

“Aren’t we doing that already?” Chase asks.

“Maybe someone else in the building got in here? Is that possible?” I ask. “You don’t always lock the front door.”

“That’s true,” Chase says.

“Stop it!” Alex shouts. “Nobody who lives in this building has come into our loft and gone straight to the bathroom vanity! Can you hear how ridiculous that sounds?” She sidesteps Chase and pushes me so that I stagger back a step and almost fall over.

“Alex!” Chase yells. “What the hell? She’s heavily pregnant!”

Thick clouds begin to wash across my vision.

Chase grips me at the elbow. “Ruth, are you okay? Ruth?”

The world is turning. It’s turning so fast, and I can’t keep up. I can’t stay on my feet. All I hear is Chase’s terrified voice.

“Alex, help me,” he says. “She’s bleeding.”