“I can’t wait till that stuff really kicks in. You’re getting on my nerves. You know, I was going to leave you alone. You weren’t like the others.”

“What? What stuff?” I tried to inventory the last hour in my mind—had I left my drink alone? But my thoughts were too slippery, my memory of the bar already full of black patches.

“You made an honest living, at least. You might drink a little bit, but you’re not out there selling yourself, dipping into drugs. Running this place into the ground. But you seem to like sniffing around in things you don’t understand. Making phone calls you shouldn’t make.”

I closed my eyes. Phone calls? Did he know about me calling Julie Zale’s aunt? Had Emily heard more than she let on when she came back from lunch that day? Had she told someone? And then I remembered, the man in the windbreaker. Baseball cap, sunglasses.That wide-legged stance. How had I not realized he was the same person? It must have been so easy for him—I was so eager to blow him off at the library, I never even looked back. It would have been nothing for him to follow me to work, to watch and wait. And what about that night, when Clara and I swam on the beach. Clara—where was she? Why couldn’t I find her? Had he gotten to her first?

“Pull over,” I said. “Let me out.” There are no paintings, I realized. The words unwieldy and slow. My vision blurred at the edges. My eyes shifted to the floor, my purse on the ground. I hadn’t turned my phone on again. I kicked it closer to the seat, ignoring the way he laughed. I kicked it again, and the floor mat shifted. Something bright, almost wet-looking, caught my eye. A silver cross necklace. Just like the one Emily wore. Emily, who had pulled that no-show at work. Who hadn’t answered any of my texts or phone calls. My skin burned. “Em … Em …” I tried, but couldn’t force out her name. I tried to picture her, but her face was blurring with Clara’s. Emily’s eyes, Clara’s red hair.

I reached for the door handle, weak, my fingers missing it by inches. I tried to grab it again. I had the sense that I’d just seen something important, but had already forgotten what it was. Slippery, slippery mind. I reached for the door handle once more and felt a burst of pain against the side of my head. Dampness on my face. I looked up at the hazy streetlight, the moths wobbling in the glow. I tried to open my mouth to say Emily’s name one more time but instead I sank. To a place very quiet. And very dark.

CLARA