“Penny?” I called out again, rapping on her bedroom door. No answer. I pressed my ear against the wood and listened, but there were no signs of life. I put my hand on the doorknob and gave it a firm turn. The door squeaked open, and I poked my head in, scanning the bed and the beanbags.

Vince lay naked on the bed with a fishing magazine open on his soft stomach. Next to him was Penny, shrugging her shoulders into a bloodred dressing gown.

“Morning,” she whispered, keeping her voice low. She darted a glance at Vince and scuttled out of the bedroom, brushing me to the side and closing the door.

“You hooked up with him?” I said, my voice tight. What had she been thinking? Was she trying to lash out at Chad?

Penny’s gaze was unfocused. “Why is that any of your business?”

“Just because you decided you’re not my friend anymore doesn’t mean I’m not yours.”

She rubbed her forehead and looked at me. Not one of her hostile, dark stares, or one of her seeing-through-me looks. But like she was finally, really seeing me. “Do you want coffee?”

“No, thanks.”

I watched in concern as she stumbled to kitchen cupboards, pulling them open at random until she found a cup. “I don’t have anything clean,” she muttered, more to herself than to me, and then, without warning, she reached up, the cup still clasped in her hand.

I didn’t realize what she was planning to do until the ceramic met the wood floor and the fractured pieces skidded all around us. I saw the look of rapture on Penny’s face, and the vague, incoherent thought flitted through my brain that she’d never looked quite as beautiful in her destruction.

Neither of us moved.

She made to bend, hand outstretched toward each itty-bitty piece.

“Don’t, you’ll cut yourself,” I said.

She didn’t listen.

I moved forward, delicately weaving around the broken cup. “Come on, get up.” When she didn’t move, I reached down, hooked my fingers under her armpit, and began to pull. It was easier than I thought it would be. Penny had always been slender, but this was different—her skin felt papery and she looked frail and tired in a way she hadn’t looked when I’d first brought Levi here.

“Is everything okay?” I dropped my voice. “With Vince?”

“Of course,” she said, slumping back down.

“Get up.” When she made no move to comply, I dug my fingers even harder into her skin. “Get up,” I insisted. “I’m getting you out of here.”

“I need to sweep,” she tried to say, but I’d already started leading her away.

“Forget about that.” I helped her stumble onto the pier and when both her feet were on solid ground, they finally gave out.