Nope. There was no way in the world that SJ was involved in this. Maybe … maybe Chad had gotten so scared about what SJ had done to him that his guilty conscience got the better of him, and he tried to make amends, hoping that would somehow undo SJ’s soul-reaping?

No, that didn’t feel right, either. Chad didn’t have a conscience.

So then how …?

“Jemma!” three voices rang out from the doorway, and I turned, trying to force the confusion from my face as I turned to greet them.

“Hey, girls! How are you?” My eyes roved over Ellie, who looked pale and tired, but at least she was smiling.

“Good!” they chorused, the standard response I got from them. As we got started with the session, I’d get more out of each of them about how things really were.

“What do you feel like doing today?” I asked, gesturing to the various bits and pieces I’d set out around the room.

“I want to sit and talk. Maybe we could make some friendship bracelets?” Ellie asked, a spark of eagerness in her eyes. I nodded, not trusting my voice, settling myself down at the table and unclipping the lids on the beads and cutting some lengths of elastic for each of them.

“When will we get to see Simeon again?” Faith demanded as soon as she took her seat.

‘Who?” I asked, threading a pink bead onto my elastic.

“Jemma! Your boyfriend with the ferrets!”

I fumbled with the bead, and it clattered across the table, off the edge, and skittered to a stop against the beanbag in the reading corner. Gosh, I’d totally forgotten that silly fake name he’d given. That day felt like forever ago, but it had only been a few weeks.

“I … uh …” I stammered, putting my elastic down, then picking it up again. Better to keep my hands busy. Busy hands, quiet mind.

Nope. It wasn’t working. My lip trembled, my throat went dry. “We’re not together anymore,” I croaked, standing from the table and racing to the tissues, dabbing my eyes vigorously. But the tears were more vigorous than the poor, thin little scrap of tissue, and it was soaked within seconds.

“Aww, Jem.”

Three sets of arms came around my middle. Skinnier than they should have been from all the treatments they’d been through. But these three were tough—they had to be to keep a brave face with everything they dealt with.

They were so much tougher than I was.

“I’m really sorry. He seemed like the perfect guy for you,” Faith mumbled against my back, her hand gripping mine and squeezing.

“But if he’s made you this sad, he wasn’t the right one,” Ellie added.

Harper was silent, but she hugged me tight nonetheless. I turned in their arms, wrapping myself around them.