He walked the length of the entryway and disappeared behind the library’s front desk. I took a step closer to the door to see him better through the glare, and noticed that he wasn’t wearing socks or shoes. When he returned a moment later, he was holding an index card, which he held up to the door so that I could see it.

“They left the security locking and unlocking instructions on the staff bulletin board,” Trey informed me. Written on the card in draftsman hand-lettering were numbered steps for setting the system at night, and disarming it in the morning. “What do you think the odds are that these are still current?”

It was risky to turn off the security system; if Trey entered the wrong code, presumably an earsplitting alarm would sound and the library’s security firm would send someone over to investigate. But we decided to go for it, figuring it was a safe bet that our town’s librarians were organized. Trey tapped in the six-digit PIN and pressed the pound key. Then we both held our breath for a moment until the word DISARMED blinked twice on the LCD, and the tiny light at the bottom of the security panel switched from red to green.

Trey pushed the door open for me, and I threw myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck. Before I was even aware of my emotions, the sound of sobbing filled the foyer, and it took a second for me to realize that it was coming from me. Being terrified that I might die and of the grief it would cause my parents—who’d already suffered so dearly—was one thing. But being heartbreakingly regretful that I may very well have compromised the life I wanted to one day enjoy with Trey was too much to bear.

Although I’d missed Trey terribly, I’d forgotten what it was like to be in his presence. To look at his face. To feel his breath against my ear. It was impossible to remember so many sensory experiences in perfect detail when we were apart, but what I was reminded of as we stood there was how I never felt more like my true self than when I was with him. I’d been going through the motions in Tampa for so long… being the daughter my dad wanted me to be, playing the role of McKenna Brady, new girl at school. Even around Henry, I was hyperconscious of my behavior, the tone of my voice, and trying to come across as capable and courageous. But with Trey, I didn’t have to calculate any element of my impulses, reactions, or expressions.

“What’s all this?” Trey whispered into my hair as he held me so tightly against his body I could barely breathe. “I’m here now. We’re together. Whatever’s happening with Mischa, it can’t be worse than what we’ve already seen.”

He loosened his embrace so that I could wipe tears off my cheeks with the backs of my hands. “So much has happened in the last day. Amanda Portnoy—Mischa’s sister—is still in a coma, and—”