At the door, Andrea rang the bell. Lauren stood at the front, jiggling on her heels, her lips moving softly to themselves. She was nervous, Ronnie realized.

They waited, but there was no answer. Andrea rang again. Ronnie cocked her head, listening, but heard no footsteps. “False alarm?”

Lauren’s brow was knitted. She pointed through the glass sidelight, which offered a translucent view into the foyer. “I see another light back there.”

“Maybe Piper’s just the kind of person who doesn’t care about wasting electricity,” Ronnie guessed. “Or maybe the lights are on a timer.”

Lauren put her hand on the knob and twisted. The latch on the door released, and the door swung open. Lauren smiled.

“What are you doing?” Ronnie hissed, planting her feet.

“Someone’s home.” Lauren angled her body to step inside, then looked at them. “I just . . . I have to see him, okay? I just want to see him for a second.”

“Lauren,” Andrea warned, but it was too late—Lauren was already through the door. They couldn’t let her go in alone.

The foyer was grand, with a double-height ceiling. The wall colors were gray. To Ronnie’s right was a sitting room, but to her surprise, it was devoid of furniture. Not a chair, nothing—an empty shell.

“Huh,” Andrea murmured. “How long has Piper lived here again?”

Ronnie wanted to snoop around the first floor, but Lauren was already heading up the curving staircase. “Lauren!” she called. Did Lauren think it was a good idea to ambush a teenage boy they now worried was dangerous? Lauren seemed to rethink this and froze. The only sound, for a moment, was the ticking of a far-off clock.

“North?” Lauren whispered. “Hello?”

So much for the lost book clubbers excuse, Ronnie thought.

“We should go,” she whispered. “I don’t like this vibe.” The idea of being knocked out and not being able to check on Esme—rescue Esme—was unthinkable.

But Lauren started up the stairs again. Ronnie groaned and followed her, if only to drag her down by her hair.

The landing opened onto a long hallway. Doors lined either side; one opened into a pretty tiled bathroom—though, strangely, with no shower curtain, no bath mat, no towels on the rack. The other opened into a bare square. Did they have the wrong house? Lauren padded down the carpeted hallway toward a closed door with a strip of light shining underneath. “Hello?” she whispered, knocking. Ronnie couldn’t believe this.

Still no answer. Lauren glanced at Ronnie and Andrea, who both vehemently shook their heads—they needed to go. But there was determination in Lauren’s face. She turned back to the door and pushed it open wide. Ronnie held her breath, terrified.

“Oh,” Lauren said.