My heart was racing. This was not how Cheryl was supposed to arrive. It was not where she was supposed to greet and embrace Mischa. They were supposed to be inside, facing each other in a narrow aisle, where it would be easier for us to crowd around them as Cheryl hugged Mischa to prevent her from backing away too far. But this was it—our only chance. If Cheryl and Dan entered the funeral home before Mischa went back inside, it was possible that Cheryl would skip greeting her altogether. Then I’d be boarding a flight bound for Tampa on Tuesday, certain to die before April twenty-second.

I took a shallow breath, looked Henry in the eye, and then unzipped my bag to make it clear to him that we had no choice other than to act right there, right then. “She’s not doing so great,” I told Cheryl, feeling queasy about manipulating her into partaking in our plan with half-truths. “She’s taking a moment to pull herself together over there with her gymnastics coach. It would probably be nice of you to say hi to her now before she goes back inside. You know? Just in case she gets emotional again.”

Cheryl looked at me with a confused expression and said, “Why? I’ll just give her some space and say hello later.”

“Both of her parents just died,” Violet jumped in, sensing what I was driving at, which was that we needed to shepherd Cheryl to the side of the building to get her in front of Mischa. “And just about everyone in town is here. It’s a little overwhelming, you know? You guys have all known each other since, like, preschool. It would probably mean a lot to her if you speak with her one-on-one. Now. Before she goes inside again.”

Cheryl looked at me for confirmation, and I nodded. We were wasting time, and I could practically feel seconds ticking by in my bones. I forced a smile and extended my arm in the direction of the garden to suggest that Cheryl and Dan should take the lead. Still looking uncertain, Cheryl finally stepped ahead of the rest of us and walked down the path toward the garden. Following, I reached into my bag and handed the empty coffee cans to both Henry and Violet. To Henry, I also passed the mason jar of red brick dust, and he removed its lid to be prepared to toss its contents. I twisted off the cap of the water bottle and dropped it into the tote bag, then pulled the rubber stopper out of the top of the vial. In my haste to have everything prepared by the time I turned the corner and came into Mischa’s view, I dropped the stopper into my tote bag, realizing after the fact that it was probably smearing cow’s blood all over the interior.

When I stepped around the edge of the building, seconds after Cheryl and Dan, I saw Mischa rising from the bench where her coach remained sitting. “… so nice of you to come,” Mischa was saying.