“But then you left me a second note,” Lauren went on. “You wanted to see me in your office.”

“I did. I wanted to warn you. About Graham.”

Lauren’s mouth dropped open. “You did?”

“Well, sure. He would have been pissed if he knew. He said he’d tell everyone everything. But I thought you needed to know.”

Lauren felt touched. “I wish you would have told me. I wish . . .”

But she wasn’t sure what she wanted to say next. Even if Lauren had never run into Ronnie and Andrea and they’d never shared that they’d all received notes and drawings, Graham would have still come for Piper. Maybe he sensed Piper was going to tell Lauren about him.

“And . . . that day in the hall.” Lauren’s heart thudded fast. “When you were attacked. Do you . . . remember Graham there?”

Piper smiled serenely. “Oh, yes. I remember Graham.”

Lauren widened her eyes, surprised by Piper’s certainty. The police hadn’t specifically said they’d gotten a statement out of her. Graham, her husband. So he really was a monster, then. He was so far from the person she knew it was hard to even mourn his loss. Sitting in the hard plastic chair, Lauren began to think about what her life would look like going forward. She couldn’t picture visiting Graham in prison. What would she tell Matthew?

“I remember Graham in the hall,” Piper said again, her voice taking on a dreamy tone. “I remember a red sweater . . .”

Lauren mentally searched Graham’s closet; she’d bought so many of his clothes. “He has a good Burberry red sweater.”

“Uh-huh,” Piper answered. She stared at Lauren intensely. “That’s the one.”

“God.” Lauren sat back. Piper sounded dazed and maybe suffering from a touch of PTSD. “I’m . . . really sorry.” She felt herself welling up. “For both of us. What a fucking mess.”

“Oh, please. I did you a favor.”

Something light and strange had invaded Piper’s voice, and Lauren looked up. There was a twist to Piper’s mouth. Did she think something was funny? Piper’s mouth went slack, then puckered once more, like she was fighting not to snicker.

Lauren pulled back, suddenly uneasy. “What?”

A smirk slipped through, though Piper was quick to make her expression neutral again. “I’m sorry, I’m really tired. Maybe you should go.”

“Okay . . .” The world seemed to tilt as Lauren stood.

“Okay,” Lauren said again, lingering behind the chair, hoping that Piper would say more. Weren’t they compatriots at least, having endured the same enemy? But maybe that was foolish. Piper was still the same person as before—the same woman, in fact, who said Lauren was nuts.

Have your stupid secrets, Lauren thought bitterly, shoving the chair back against the wall. Pretend you’re better than me. I was just trying to help.