I tried to look at where they were going, but ran up against one of the weird side effects about my dead life with Emma—whenever her eyes were closed or covered, mine were, too. It made me wonder who or what was behind all this—not my murder, but me, here, trailing Emma from beyond the grave. Believe me, I hadn’t been a what-does-it-all-mean kind of girl when I was alive, reading philosophy and praying to Buddha or whatever. But this opportunity with Emma, as scary as it was, made me feel kind of . . . blessed. Undeserving, too. I’d clearly been a bitch in life; why was I given this special gift? Or was this what happened to everyone after they died, or at least those with unfinished business?

Finally, Emma sensed the car easing to a stop and heard Ethan shift it into PARK. “Okay,” he said softly. “You can look now.”

Emma lowered the scarf and blinked. They were downtown, near the college. A large, sand-colored building stretched across the horizon. Sweet-smelling lemon trees lined a stone walkway. Golden lights illuminated the grand front steps. Across the front of the building was a black banner that read TUCSON PHOTOGRAPHY INSTITUTE.

“Oh!” Emma cried, feeling more confused than ever.

“There’s an exhibit for three London-based photographers starting tonight,” Ethan explained. “I know you like photography, so . . .”

“This is great!” Emma breathed. Then she looked down at her dress. “But why are we dressed up?”

“Because tonight’s the opening party.”

“And we’re . . . invited?”

Ethan shot her a devious smile. “Nope. We’re going to crash.”

Emma’s hands went slack in her lap. “Ethan—I can’t get in trouble again. The Mercers will kill me if they know I’m out. I’m supposed to be in Sutton’s bedroom right now, repenting my life as a criminal.”

Ethan gestured to two party guests climbing the grand stairs. A tuxedoed man at the top smiled at them and politely opened the doors without checking for credentials. “Live a little. I promise you we won’t get caught.”

“But what does this have to do with Sutton?”

Ethan sat back against his seat, looking a little surprised by the question. “Well, nothing. I just thought it would be fun.”

Emma gazed from the photo institute’s elegant columns back to Ethan’s face. A fancy party with Ethan? That would be fun. Maybe she deserved some time to relax and just be herself.

“Okay.” She pushed open the door, casting a grin over her shoulder. “But at the first sign of trouble, we’re leaving.”

Good girl, I thought. For a second, I had been sure Emma was going to demand that Ethan take her home. The problem with Emma being grounded was that I’d been cooped up for days, watching her pace in my bedroom. Crashing a party is just what the boredom doctor ordered.