Mrs. Mercer cleared her throat. “I know you girls will want to tell your friends, but for the time being, I’d appreciate it if we could keep this information private. Your father and I are still debating the best way to go about searching for Emma, and . . . there’s still a lot for us to talk about.”

Laurel’s jaw stiffened belligerently for a moment, and Emma was sure she was going to argue. But then she took Mrs. Mercer’s hand and squeezed it. “Sure, Mom,” she said, her voice gentle. “We can keep a secret.”

In the hallway, the clock struck the quarter hour.

“We need to go,” Mr. Mercer said softly. “We’ll be late.”

“I have to run to the bathroom,” Emma said, needing a second to compose herself. She grabbed her clutch and hurried down the hall. As soon as she was alone, Emma leaned over the sink. In the mirror, her skin looked milky pale, her blue eyes brighter than usual. I’m doing the right thing, she told herself. No matter what, she needed to keep her family safe.

I was glad Emma was looking out for my family. But as I stared into her face, so achingly like my own, I couldn’t help but wonder: Who would keep Emma safe?

2 - A Grave Matter

2

A GRAVE MATTER

“It is with much sadness today that we offer up our farewells to Nisha. She was a vibrant, talented girl, and we will miss her.”

The funeral was a graveside service, set among the sycamores and salt cedars of the cemetery. The sun blazed from its late-fall angle in the sky, sending a melancholy sheen over the gray and white tombstones. Emma sat on a folding chair between Madeline Vega and Charlotte Chamberlain, Sutton’s two best friends. Right behind them sat the Twitter Twins, their cell phones in their purses for once. Laurel sat next to them, hiccupping with silent tears. The entire school had turned out, including most of their teachers and Principal Ambrose. Emma caught sight of Ethan standing in the shade of a tree, wearing the black shirt and black tie he’d been in for the news interview.

The officiant, a broad-hipped woman in a white sari, went on. “It is especially cruel to lose someone so young. Nisha was brimming with potential. The temptation to dwell on all she could have done if she had survived is great. We want to lament how she might have changed the world, how she might have gone on to such great heights.”