“There’s another story about Gabby somehow locking herself inside her gym locker in ninth grade.” Ethan paused to take another canapé from the tray. “I didn’t even know someone could fit inside one of those. And when we were in junior high? Someone caught Lili and Gabby talking in British voices on the playground, calling each other ‘Miss Lili Tallywacker’ and ‘Gabby Pony Baloney.’ They had no idea the terms were slang for penis; they just thought they sounded funny. They didn’t live that down for a long time.”

Emma almost coughed up a mouthful of champagne. “Oh my God.”

“But despite all that, something tells me you shouldn’t write them off so easily,” Ethan said. “You should be careful around them, figure out what they know.”

Emma nodded. “Madeline and the others want to prank them. But I think it’s a terrible idea.”

“I’d stay away from that plan. If they are the killers, the last thing you want to do is piss them off more.”

The AC clicked on, and the air suddenly felt chilly. The band played something more appropriate for a 1920s speakeasy, and a couple of the drunker attendees started to dance. Ethan waved his hands around his face to dispel a cloud of cigar smoke.

They were quiet as they moved to the next set of photographs. It was a collage of Polaroids, each depicting different body parts: eyes, noses, feet, ears. “I love Polaroids,” Ethan said.

“Me, too,” Emma answered, relieved at the change in subject. “My mom gave me a Polaroid camera when I was little, before she took off.”

“Do you miss her?” Ethan asked.

Emma fingered the stem of her champagne glass. “It’s been so long,” she said vaguely. “I hardly remember what there is to miss.”

“What do you think happened to her?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Emma sighed and moved past a clump of patrons talking loudly about how they’d all been friends with Andy Warhol back in the glory days of the art scene. “A long time ago, I used to think she was still nearby, watching me. Following me from home to home, staying close to make sure I was okay. But I know now how stupid that was.”

“It’s not stupid.”

Emma stared intently at the price list on the wall as though she were thinking of making a purchase. “No, it is. Becky left me. She made a choice; I can’t change that.”

“Hey.” Ethan turned Emma to face him. For a moment, he just stared at her, which sent a thousand butterflies flapping through Emma’s stomach. Then, he reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “She made the wrong choice. You know that, right?”

A swell of emotions washed over Emma. “Thank you,” she said quietly, staring into his round blue eyes.