A few minutes later, Emma stepped out into the gentle afternoon sun. The reception had been arranged on the patio in front of the church, beneath clusters of fragrant eucalyptus trees. Already some of the funeral attendees had filled paper plates with vols-au-vent, cucumber sandwiches, and shortbread-and-jam cookies. Emma spied Dr. Banerjee, looking frail but talking animatedly to Coach Maggie. Quinlan was there too, sipping a glass of lemonade and chatting with Father Maxwell. Louisa stood with Celeste, sharing crudités off a single plate. Knowing what Louisa had gone through, Emma couldn’t help but stare at her. Somehow she’d managed to put all the darkness behind her and move on. If she could come out the other side, then maybe Emma could too.

“Emma?” An uncertain voice spoke softly to her left. She turned to see Alex Stokes, a full head shorter than Emma and pixie-shaped, wearing a black slip-dress and Doc Martens laced halfway up.

Emma’s face lit up. “Alex!”

Alex hurried forward and threw her arms around her. “I knew you didn’t do it,” she said, her voice muffled against Emma’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry I showed the police those texts. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Emma said. “They would have gotten them eventually. I’m just sorry you got pulled into the whole thing. And I’m so, so sorry for lying to you.”

Alex pulled away from the hug to stare up at her with round, sympathetic eyes. “It sounds like it was . . . complicated.”

“Yeah,” Emma murmured. She bit her lip. “I’m not ready to talk about the whole thing yet. But I promise, I’ll tell you everything as soon as I am.”

“I’ll be here,” Alex said, squeezing her elbow.

The doors to the church opened again, and the entire Lying Game clique stepped out together. Their eyes were red, but they emerged with an It Girl dignity that would have made Sutton proud. Charlotte’s lips were painted Bitch Queen Red, and Madeline lifted her chin with prima ballerina hauteur. Lili and Gabby were arm in arm, Lili in lace tights and black eyeliner, Gabby in a pearl necklace and matching earrings. Laurel was with them, too, her honey-blonde hair swept back from her face, an embroidered handkerchief clutched in one hand.

Alex glanced at the clique, then back at Emma. “They seem, uh, nice.”

A grin broke across Emma’s face. “They’re not. But it’s okay. They’re actually pretty amazing.”

Charlotte was the first to meet Emma’s eyes. She came slowly down the steps to where Emma stood, the other girls trailing behind her. Laurel gave her an uncertain smile, but the others’ faces were stony. Next to her Alex shifted her weight.

After a long moment, Charlotte held out her hand to Emma.