“Carson. He saw that the door was different from how he left it. I didn’t confirm we were there.” She paused, considering telling Andrea that she’d told Lane. She decided to hold off for now. “The cop also said Carson mentioned there being a lot of sensitive files in the office. I wonder if that’s how they knew I worked for Topless Maids, actually.”

There was a long pause. “Silver Swans has a file about you working for Topless Maids?”

“I don’t know how. I certainly didn’t offer that up on my application.”

Andrea took a breath. “That Missing flyer. Do you think that was in the file, too?”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Ronnie said nervously, shaken that Andrea had drawn the same conclusion. “So who has access to those files?”

“Carson.”

Ronnie shivered. Carson was the person closest to Piper. Ronnie couldn’t picture the teachers being involved. “But why would he threaten us?” she whispered.

“He loves Piper. Maybe he thinks we’re going to tarnish her reputation by spilling the beans about the notes our kids got.”

“But why wouldn’t he just turn me in for Esme?” Ronnie went on, her mind reeling. “Then I’d just be in jail.”

“Good point,” Andrea said. “Unless he can’t turn you in. I mean, how did he get that information on you in the first place? Maybe he hacked something. Maybe he did something illegal. Or maybe he thinks we know something else Piper’s done wrong? Or . . . or maybe something he’s done wrong?”

Ronnie racked her brain of what that could be. “The cop implied I might have been looking for money.”

“You didn’t find money in the office, did you? I mean—I know you didn’t take it. But was there any in there?”

“Not that I saw. The only thing I found was that spreadsheet.” She took a hiccup of a breath. “I haven’t looked at it, though. I’ve been too afraid.”

“It’s okay,” Andrea said thoughtfully. “Let’s look at it together. Maybe we can figure out what it is.”

Ronnie really, really didn’t want to. But eventually she stood, then walked down the hall to the coat closet, trying to remember the jacket she’d had on the day everything went down with Piper. Her black one, she was pretty sure. When she reached into the pocket, the paper was still there, crumpled on one side, but intact. She smoothed it out and stared at the information.

“It’s just random numbers,” she told Andrea. “There are no dollar amounts. No names.” But then she thought about student IDs—maybe that was what these were? “Hold on,” she said to Andrea. “Let me confirm something.”