My stomach twisted into a knot. “It’s not as easy as just hopping on a plane. Even if my parents are open to the idea of my coming back to Willow to support Mischa, a flight on short notice is going to be expensive. My parents aren’t like yours. They can’t just drop hundreds of dollars on a whim.”

“Whatever! I’ll pay for your flight. Just get their permission, and tell me whether you can fly tonight or tomorrow.”

I took that in for a moment. Wisconsin. Suddenly, it seemed very real that I’d be home again within the next twenty-four hours.

“Oh!” I exclaimed, almost forgetting. This wasn’t going to be good. “One more thing. Henry Richmond is on his way back to Wisconsin right now. And… um, he wants to murder you.”

“What?!” she exclaimed.

“I just wanted to warn you. He may have gotten it into his head that killing you will break the cycle. So I guess if you see him…” I trailed off, not wanting to explicitly tell her to call the police.

“Great,” Violet muttered. “Remind him that we have a private security service, and my dad keeps guns in the house.” She ended the call before I could reply.

Since I’d taken my backpack with me when I’d left the classroom, I hung out in the courtyard rather than returning to class. Violet’s mention of guns had made my heart start racing again; we were all in enough danger without lethal weapons as part of the equation. The enormity of the possibility that my life in Florida—and maybe my life in general—might have been coming to an end cemented me in place. I felt, not for the first time since September, an anxious churn in my stomach like I was waiting in line to board a roller coaster. I was excited because there was nowhere in the world I would have rather been than Willow. But I was equally terrified of what would happen once I arrived.

Moments before the bell rang, my phone buzzed with another incoming text. I assumed that it was from Violet, but when I looked at it, my heart leapt into my throat.

MISCHA 1:13 P.M.

I should never have listened to you. This is your fault, and I’m going to make you pay.

CHAPTER 5

I BOARDED THE BUS BOUND for work after school, fully aware that it was kind of insane to be going to work for my shift when it was imperative that I get on a plane to Wisconsin immediately. While waiting for the bus to arrive, I’d been mentally rehearsing ways in which I could ask, but the disappointment I anticipated hearing in my mom’s voice was not making me feel good.

However, just as I was swiping my bus pass, I heard a distinct noise come through across my earbuds over the static. “Remind her. Just remind her.”

I practically ran down the aisle of the bus to throw myself into a seat and check my radio app. It was tuned in to AM 1350, and I tapped the up button a few times to bring it to 1354, at which the static subsided. I angled the microphone on my phone toward my mouth. “Jennie? Can you hear me?” And then, just to seem like I was talking to a living, breathing friend and not the ghost of my dead sister, I added for the benefit of those sitting around me, “I just got on the bus.”