Colette didn’t answer. Instead, she went over and climbed up the two-person rock. I stared at her as she jumped off into the sagebrush. I bet that scratched her ankles, but she didn’t seem to mind. She immediately climbed up again, one knee on the rock first, then all of her.

“The boy I met wants to know why no one saved him,” she said, looking ahead of her, not at me. She jumped off, her hair flying straight up, landing with a thud. Laughing bitterly, she climbed back up.

“He’s pretty mad about that part. Like, where was his dad? Where were his friends? His stupid girlfriend?”

She jumped off again.

“Why are you doing that?” I asked.

She didn’t answer; she only climbed the rock.

“I wonder the same thing: why no one saved me.”

“We tried! We tried to figure out where you were, but it was too late!”

Her eyes snapped to mine. They were blank, unfriendly. “Did you, Tess?”

Jump.

Climb.

“Frankie tried to help me,” Colette said. “You just went along with it—but not at first. You didn’t even believe her at first.”

Jump.

Climb.

I felt sick because it was true. Frankie had figured out the clues before I had—and believed them—because she saw things that other people didn’t sometimes. That I didn’t. Colette had been playing the game we’d made up as kids, and Frankie had remembered the details and been able to connect them. Without Frankie doing that, the police might never have found Colette.

But it’s not like I didn’t do other things, like hang up posters and try to be there for Colette’s parents. And I helped Frankie when she asked me to. I just didn’t figure it out on my own.

Because you’re book smart but street stupid, Mean Me said, with me even in dreams.

“You were both supposed to be my best friends,” Colette said.

Jump.

Climb.

“We are!” I said. “I am,” I whispered. “I’ll always be your best friend.”

Colette looked at me again, with those same empty eyes. “Prove it,” she said, stepping to the edge of the rock, her flip-flops hanging over the edge. “If you’re my best friend, then save me.”

She jumped. But this time the ground opened up like a tunnel to the center of the earth, and instead of falling just three or four feet and landing with a thud in the sagebrush, she was swallowed into the darkness.

“Colette!” I screamed, rushing over to peer down into the pit, unable to see or hear her at all. “Colette! Are you there? Colette! Come back! Colette!” I screamed and screamed and sobbed in my dream.

Suddenly, I was awake, Kennedy’s hand on my shoulder. I blinked into the darkness, looking for Colette.

“It’s okay,” Kennedy whispered. “You’re okay. You were just dreaming.”