And just last week, the night of Charlotte’s sleepover, when someone crept down and strangled Emma:

@MissLiliTallywhacker: She thinks we’re so stupid.

@GabbyPonyBaloney: She’ll know the truth soon enough.

@MissLiliTallywhacker: She’d better be careful. . . .

And the night of Sutton’s birthday party:

@GabbyPonyBaloney: She has no clue what’s coming. I can’t wait to see the look on her face.

@MissLiliTallywhacker: Let’s hope this works.

And the tweet Gabby sent just that afternoon:

@GabbyPonyBaloney: Less than an hour to go. That bitch is going down.

A locker door slammed in the hall, shaking the nursing-station walls and making the thick green contents of a big bottle of cough syrup wobble back and forth on the shelf. That bitch is going down. A vision of the hurtling light fixture swam through Emma’s mind. She stared at Ethan. “They’re talking about me.”

The argument I’d had with Lili the night of Gabby’s accident flashed through my mind. I’d told her she’d better keep her mouth shut, or I’d ruin her life. But maybe instead, she and her sister ruined mine.

“Do me a favor and email these to me,” Emma said to Ethan. “All of them. I can’t risk losing these like I lost the snuff film.”

“Done.” Ethan grabbed the phone back from Emma and started copying and pasting all of the tweets.

Muffled classical music from orchestra practice in the next room echoed through the walls. Suddenly, Emma’s body ached as though she’d run back-to-back marathons. “What a nightmare,” she said, slumping against the flat mattress on the cot. “Knowing there are two of them just makes this feel even more impossible. And were they trying to scare me? Or kill me? And if they were trying to kill me, how long before they try again?”

Ethan murmured a note of sympathy, but didn’t offer any advice. “What I wouldn’t give for a day off from this,” Emma murmured. “A couple of hours off.” She thought about Friday night. It was hard enough navigating broad daylight with the Twitter Twins. But dealing with a dark Homecoming dance with a haunted house theme, all by herself? She snuck a peek at Ethan. “I have an idea.”

Ethan dropped his phone into his pocket. “Let’s hear it.”

“What if you went to Homecoming with me?” Emma gestured to the Halloween Homecoming flyer that hung on the nurse’s wall. It was of a skeleton and a witch doing the tango.

Ethan took a step back. “Emma . . .”