“Internship, remember? I’m assisting Maura today with some research. I would have canceled, considering, but I wanted to see you.” He turns sheepish, won’t quite meet my eyes. “Sorry if that’s too much. I’ve been thinking about you nonstop since it all…but I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Oh?” Internally, I’m relieved that he didn’t send one of the dozens of ignored texts on my phone. I couldn’t deal. He’d anticipated I wouldn’t be able to.

“Sorry,” Ben says. “I just…I hate that you had to find her. I keep thinking about how awful that must have been for you. I found my mom. And I imagine you saw yours….”

“Yeah,” I say. A smile pushes at my lips. “Thank you for caring. You know the last thing I would ever want to do is pull focus from Natalie’s family. Ring theory, you know?” Ben nods. We both understand the reference: the person closest to a death is allowed whatever emotions they like, but those outside shouldn’t dump their own emotions and issues onto that person. I’m glad I don’t have to explain.

“What are you doing with that?” Ben points at the book. I snap the paperback shut. Ben’s face is open, curious. Nonjudgmental. Still. I hesitate, thumbing the pages and creating a breeze on my face.

“Have you read this?” I hold the book aloft.

He tilts his head to the side, bemused. “Of course I have. I’d be a pretty shitty intern if I hadn’t read Maura’s books. Plus, I’m from Seaview. It’s practically a requirement.”

“Well, I seem to be the only one who is stating the obvious about what’s going on. Surely they told her father.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s a copycat murder. And one of Maura’s creepy superfans was there, Ben. He was there, right after I found her. That’s gotta mean something, right?”

Ben squints, like he’s lost the plot. “Wait, who was there?”

“Chris! That guy you interrupted talking to me last Saturday. Peach sweater.”

One week ago seems like an age.

“Business Card Guy?” Ben’s putting it together but still looking at me sideways, as if he’s unsure I’m all there.

“Yes!” I’d forgotten about that. Where did I put that card? Jeans pocket? Backpack? Both are upstairs. I’m halfway out the door before Ben stops me midstride.

“Where are you going? Slow down. Hold on. What’s going on?”

I’m a million miles ahead of him. He’ll just have to catch up. “Come on. His card is in my room.”