“Yes, she is.” I wait a beat, watch Rebecca carefully, looking for signs that she’s going to fall over or cry or lose her composure in any way. But she doesn’t. She remains upright, even with her face blank. “Are you okay? Do you want me to go inside and get you some water or something?”

She shakes her head ever so slightly, her hand still pressed to her chest.

“Would you like me to drive you home?” I ask. “I saw you got off the bus.”

“I’m okay,” she says. She starts nodding. “I am. I’m just . . . really shocked.”

“I know.”

“Does this mean that really was Madeline at your reading the other night?” she asks.

“Yes, it does. And the police are going to be trying to figure out why she was here and who might have wanted to hurt her.”

“I thought someone hurt her when she disappeared. I thought she was already . . . you know, dead. That’s why I didn’t believe it at first when I thought I saw her at the library.”

“You were right about that. And I was kind of dismissive when you told me you saw her, but I shouldn’t have been.”

“That’s okay. It’s pretty fucking weird.”

“It is.”

Rebecca seems to be coming back to herself. Color returns to her face, and her eyes focus on mine for the first time since I told her the news.

“That’s why I wanted to talk to you today, if I could. I wondered if you’d had any other contact with Madeline since that night. I know you were kind of friends and both writing majors, so I thought maybe she tried to talk to you or reach out to you.”

But Rebecca is shaking her head. “No, she hasn’t. Like I told you, she was at the library, but then she left before I could talk to her. I was kind of freaked by seeing her. I mean, I wanted to go up and get closer and see if it was Madeline, but then a part of me didn’t. I don’t believe in ghosts—I really don’t—but seeing that person there just freaked me out. I was scared.”

“That’s understandable.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“It’s even more complicated because another woman was murdered before Madeline disappeared. And the police are trying to make connections between the two crimes. It looks like Madeline knew the first woman who was killed.”

“Who was that?” Rebecca asks.

“Her name was Sophia Greenfield. I guess she and Madeline went to yoga together and were friends.”

“Oh, yeah. My mom read about it and called me when it happened. She was totally freaked out. Then she talked about making me come home, but I wanted to stay. So I signed up for a self-defense class and bought pepper spray to make her happy. I don’t think the murder was on campus. . . .”