Sophia let this go, and he was thankful for it. In the past, Sophia had taken it upon herself to conjure him a social life, which she assured him would do wonders for his self-esteem. Wonders! Always said with jazz hands. It was a well-intentioned hobby of Sophia’s but had always deeply embarrassed Kane, who did not think he had low self-esteem to begin with. He just wasn’t like Sophia, who needed to befriend everyone and everything. No, Kane liked to think of himself as Discerning! with jazz hands.

And besides, if he truly wanted to, Kane could talk to people. But why risk it? It felt unnatural. It was better to resign himself to safer companions: dogs, plants, books, and Lucia the lunch lady, who gave him extra fries on Pizza Tuesdays.

Something poked Kane’s cheek. He swatted Sophia away. “What?”

“I said that I overheard Dad on the phone with the police today. They said that your accident…wasn’t looking like an accident. That the whole thing seemed deliberate and thought out, and they wondered if maybe you were trying to…”

The cicadas simmered through the silence, an invisible crowd gossiping around them. Kane had to be careful with his words now. Sophia had asked a question without asking it.

“I wasn’t trying to kill myself,” he said.

“How can you know that if you say you can’t remember that night, or the months leading up to it?”

Kane could feel each jagged edge of denial in his throat. He tried to force it up but it cut and clawed. He just knew.

“Kane, two days is a long time to go without calling. And stealing Dad’s car? That’s larceny. And I know you don’t want to talk about it, but if you don’t clear your psych evaluation, Mom says that you might have to go live—”

“Stop it,” Kane said, harsh now. “Look, I’m sorry. I wish I could tell you more. I wish I knew where I was, or what I was doing.”

In a small voice Sophia said, “Or who you were with.”

“What?”

“Well, someone must have pulled you out of this burning building and then helped you to the river. They should have checked your body for fingerprints.”

Of everything, this unsettled Kane the most, as though he could feel the grip of ghosts upon his flesh. He felt the way the mill looked: history, in smithereens, haunted with the sort of shadows that squirm.

“Not that you can leave prints on a body,” Sophia said. “I checked.”

A familiar sense bristled over Kane. Sophia had always thought of him as a bit of a project. Had she made investigating the accident her latest focus? Did she know more about this than she was letting on?

“What else do you know?”