“Preston called me early this morning,” Lance says, shaking his head and still rubbing his hands together. He hasn’t shaved, and his stubble is a mixture of gray and black on his pockmarked face. “He told me about Madeline. The news is starting to spread. It really has me struggling. It’s depressing, horribly so. What a shit show. It makes me wonder what anything is worth. Things are so . . . futile. So hopeless.” He stares at the glove box, his eyes wide and disbelieving. “I don’t even know what to say about it. It’s rare that words fail me, but they do.”

“What else did Preston say?”

I want to ask a more pointed question—did he mention calling the police on me? But I don’t.

“He said you were likely to be a suspect of some kind,” Lance says matter-of-factly. “I mean, I know you were the last one to see her before she disappeared and now there’s something bigger brewing. I have my own theory on it, of course.”

“Oh, you do?”

“Sure.” He stops rubbing his hands together.

“Are you going to share with the class?”

He sniffles, rubs his hand across his nose. “That night your book was launched, and Preston and I came over to the house. Madeline was there, right? She was the one you were drinking with before we showed up, and she split out the back door when she saw us coming. It wouldn’t have looked good for anybody if we’d seen her there with you. I mean, she was supposed to be missing.”

“Where did you come up with that craziness?”

“It makes sense. You were probably involved with her before she disappeared. And so when she came back to town, she must have come to see you. I’m right, aren’t I?”

Lance looks pleased with himself. I can imagine him in the classroom, pinning some underprepared, immature student to the wall with the same glee.

“You’re talking about my life, Lance. My freedom.”

“I have to do right by her. I have to tell the police she was at your house that night.”

“I know she was at your house,” I say.

“What?”

“Before she disappeared. When you had one of your famous parties. She was there. Right?”

“She might have been. I don’t keep a guest list.”

“Do you keep track of what happens to those students when they’re at your house? Besides the underage drinking?”