And just like that, relief flooded Emma’s body. Alex wasn’t going to expose her. Alex was covering for her. The “rec center” had been their own private code for any kind of rule-breaking. It started when Emma was staying with the Stokeses; one night Alex had slipped out past her curfew for a date with a boy from UNLV. When Alex’s single mom came home early and asked where her daughter was, Emma had stammered out that Alex was swimming at the rec center. They both laughed about it later. Good thing my mom’s internal clock is all screwed up from working nights, Alex had teased, or she’d have wanted to know why that pool is open at midnight on a weeknight. From then on, “rec center” was synonymous for “I’ve got your back.”

Emma suddenly missed her old best friend more than ever. Hearing the news of her own death had made her feel horribly alone—as though she were a living ghost, invisible to the people around her. But here was Alex, clear as day, telling her she was on her side.

“I think I need to lie down for a little while,” Emma said cautiously. “May I be excused?”

“Of course.” Mrs. Mercer was still watching her with concern evident on her face. “Do you need anything, sweetheart?”

“No, I’m all right.” Emma gave a wan smile. “Just tired.” She stood up and carefully pushed her chair in against the table. She could feel their eyes follow her out the kitchen door.

It was all she could do to keep from taking the stairs three at a time. She forced herself to walk slowly, passing the gallery wall of family photos that ran up the stairwell. She knew the pictures by heart now, every smile, every outfit, the patterns on the wrapping paper in birthday and Christmas photos. It was a highlight reel of Sutton’s life, not hers—and yet after so much pretending, sometimes it was hard to remember that.

When she got to Sutton’s room, Emma rummaged at the bottom of the biggest desk drawer, where she’d hidden the old BlackBerry she’d brought with her from Vegas. Sure enough, Alex had messaged her. WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON? ARE YOU OK?

Emma winced, wishing Alex were in front of her right that minute so she could throw her arms around her with relief. She hit the button to reply.

I CAN’T EXPLAIN RIGHT NOW. DON’T CONTACT ME AGAIN—IT’S DANGEROUS. THANK YOU FOR EVERYTHING. LOVE YOU ALWAYS.