I nod like I get it, but I don’t: The accident didn’t happen to him. It happened to Piper, and then she happened to everyone else. It’s a feeling I know well, and as I walk away from Piper’s bed, I wonder if that’s the burden she felt so acutely last night when a bottle of pills looked a lot like relief.

Her dad takes my spot by the bed. A nurse closes the curtains again, and Piper’s mom walks with me down the hall, talking in circles the whole way.

“Did Piper tell you anything? About what was wrong? Or that she was thinking about doing something…like this?”

Her eyes dart across my face, searching for an answer I don’t have.

“I thought she was doing okay. She was walking with that walker thing a little. And helping with the volleyball team,” I say.

Her mom’s face twists in confusion. “What volleyball team?”

“You know, being an assistant on the team again.”

She shakes her head. “No, she wasn’t.”

I start to argue, but realize I have no evidence. I never actually saw her working with the team. She was always “skipping” practice to come hang out at drama, or didn’t have to go because the team was on the road. Did she ever even talk to the coach?

I look back toward Piper’s room.

Maybe Asad was right; I’ve been so busy looking down that I didn’t see the pain in the person right beside me. Just like Asad in his lighting booth and me behind my curtains, Piper’s been hiding this whole time.

At home, Cora and Glenn walk on eggshells, watching me out of the corners of their eyes until it’s time for bed. I don’t blame them—in the last thirty-six hours, I had an epic meltdown, took a harrowing trip down memory lane, and visited my suicidal friend in the hospital. No wonder they look at me like I’m a bomb about to detonate.

Cora lotions me up in silence, and when I’m rezipped in my second skin, she sits on the edge of the bed. Glenn comes in, too, but stops and leans against the wall to take off his boots. Cora smiles.

“Can’t take the cowboy out of that man,” she says, half laughing. Then, softer, “Not that I’d ever want to.”

Debooted, Glenn bends down to kiss Cora on the part in her hair. She leans into him.

“How is she?” he says.

My voice comes out gravelly with emotion.

“She wasn’t really awake when I saw her.”

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t know.” My voice vibrates, tightening right at the spot above my star scar. “It was so weird to see her lying there, so small. And all I could think was how I can’t lose someone again. My heart can’t take it.”