You pass through the courtyard and around the playground. The other threes class is out there, and you spy Carson in the garden, inspecting some of the vegetable patches. You don’t wave. You’re too distracted to talk to him right now. You reach the loft building from the back entrance and stand for a moment in the cool shade of the stoop. The first time you key in the code on the security panel, you get it wrong—your fingers are slick, suddenly. Perhaps with guilt. The door clicks as it opens, and you push into the cool darkness of the hall.

The back door’s latch closes slowly, barely making a sound. You blink in the darkness, suddenly having a strange feeling that you aren’t alone. A rustle comes from around the corner. A tiny click of movement. You pause. Carson is outside. You’d seen the security guy in the parking lot. Everyone else who has access to this building was in their classrooms.

“Hello?” you call out.

You swear you can hear someone breathing, and you can feel your stomach sucking in. Someone is here. Graham flashes through your mind again. Maybe he hadn’t left at all.

“Who’s there?” you whisper.

The air feels fraught. If you reached out, would you be able to touch an arm, a shoulder? You take another step forward. And then another. “Graham,” you say, though you can’t see anyone.

And then there’s a tap on your back. Disoriented, you swing around and see a shape standing on the riser behind you. Then, features materialize. It isn’t Graham, though. You squint in confusion, your brain a few steps behind your eyes.

“Piper.” The voice is not much more than a whisper . . . and then a sob. “How could you?”

You don’t understand what’s going on. You don’t have time for whatever they want. You’re ready to say that, too, but then you feel hands against your chest, and in those moments, you want to take it all back. I was just trying my best, you want to say. I know that sometimes wasn’t good enough. But I was going to undo all of it. Let me do my best to make amends.

But then the darkness falls over you. And for a long time, you don’t know whether you’re alive or dead.

Thirty-Four

Sign here,” the flower delivery woman said, pushing an iPad-type object toward Ronnie. After Ronnie scrawled her name on the electronic screen, she grabbed the giant bouquet of peonies with both hands and stepped back into the apartment.

“Whoa!” Lane said as Ronnie placed the flowers down on the kitchen counter. “Those are gorgeous!”

“They’re from Andrea,” Ronnie said as she opened the card.

Lane spied the inscription before Ronnie could hide it. “ ‘So happy for you’? Why, because you weren’t killed?” His voice had an edge.