These were the sounds of a normal family—one that she actually belonged to. And that would hopefully grow by one more, eventually. She thought of the secret she’d told the Mercers as soon as they’d gotten home from the police station: that Becky had another child, somewhere in California. She’d be twelve now. Emma didn’t even know what her name was, but the Mercers had vowed to track her down, too. Hopefully she was happy, wherever she was, but if she wasn’t—well, the Mercers had a big house.

But that could wait. Today, finally, Emma could say good-bye to one sister. She’d worry about her other one tomorrow.

34 - The Queen is Dead (Long Live the Queen)

34

THE QUEEN IS DEAD (LONG LIVE THE QUEEN)

Sutton’s funeral was held in a beautiful Spanish Revival church in the Catalina Foothills. Cream-colored adobe walls arched up from thick red carpets, and bunches of flowers had been arranged on every surface. Every pew was packed—the entire school was there, along with what seemed like half of Tucson. Emma’s eyes scanned the crowd. Sutton’s teachers sat mingled with the students. Principal Ambrose perched awkwardly at the front, a black pillbox hat on her stiff hair. A half dozen police officers were there, too, shining in their dress blues. Quinlan sat next to a pretty Asian woman Emma was shocked to realize must be his wife. Corcoran sat behind them, his face as stoic as always.

In front of the altar was a blown-up picture of Sutton. Unlike most photos of her, where she mugged for the camera or smirked or gave a movie-star pout, this one showed a quiet, inscrutable girl. Her eyes were wide and clear, her lips parted in an enigmatic smile. The expression wasn’t malicious or sly, but it hinted at the presence of a secret self, deeper and more beautiful than anyone could have guessed.

I followed my sister’s gaze as she looked out over the crowd. There were so many faces I barely recognized, people who’d flitted through my life without any real connection. Kids I’d passed in the hallway, people I’d rolled my eyes at, neighbors I’d only spoken to once or twice. The sheer size of the crowd made me feel strangely sad. Who here had I missed out on knowing?

Emma sat in the front row with the rest of Sutton’s family, her hands balled up in her lap. Next to her, Laurel was sobbing into Mr. Mercer’s handkerchief, her shoulders shaking. Mr. and Mrs. Mercer clung to each other as if to a lifeline. On the other side of them sat Grandma Mercer in a sleek black suit, her lips pressed into a savage red line of grief.