“Yeah—and other scary stuff. I don’t think I got more than four hours’ sleep the whole weekend.” She jiggled her foot rapid-fire. “I’m totally creeped out by what happened, you know? I need to chill, though, or I’ll be too tired to study—and if I get bad grades, Dad will have a hissy. But how can I study with these jitters?” She sniffed and pulled out her tissue again. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” He watched her for a few moments. “Were you able to sneak in any smokes during the weekend?”

“No. Dad can smell tobacco a mile away—and he only left our suite to go to the Starbucks in the lobby. Besides, a cigarette wouldn’t have helped enough.”

Evans rose, circled back around his desk, sat—and asked the question she’d been waiting for.

“Have you ever tried anything stronger than tobacco to help get you through the rough patches?”

She feigned innocence. “Like booze?”

“Anything.”

“Is this just between you and me?”

“Yes. What’s discussed in this office stays in this office—and that works both ways. Everything we share here is confidential. Agreed?”

“Sure. I mean, it’s not like I tell my dad anything, and I don’t have any friends here yet.”

“You will—but that doesn’t mean you have to share everything with them. Two friends can keep secrets from their other friends. Trust is an important part of any relationship. Do you agree?”

“Yeah. Of course.”

“I’d like you to consider me a friend.”

“I do. You’re different than all the other adults here. I mean, I can talk to you, you know? You’re the only one who understands what I’m going through. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt our friendship.” She put as much passion as she could muster into her declaration.

He leaned back in his chair, rested his elbows on the arms, and steepled his fingers. “I can imagine how you feel. Your father uproots you, takes you away from all your friends. He leaves you here, among strangers, and goes back to the East Coast. Everything is new and different. Cliques are already formed at Ivy Hill, and it’s hard to break in. The classes are demanding, and it’s difficult to get up to speed midyear. Then someone jumps you in the woods. That’s a boatload of stress within a very short period.”

“Exactly. See what I mean? You get it.” She exhaled and slumped back in her chair. “But how do I fix it?”

Come on, Evans, take the bait. Give me what I need.

“Let me go back to the question I asked a minute ago. Have you ever tried anything stronger than tobacco?”