Elizabeth shook her head. “It’s much too late for that.” Then she stooped down to pick up a seashell—a wide, flat one with a sharp, undulating edge. “This will work. The cuts needn’t be fine.”

Mateo watched, horrified, as she went to Jeremy’s body and flipped him over on his back. Jeremy’s face—slack and vacant, sand stuck to the skin—was the most gruesome thing he’d ever seen.

Or it was until she brought the corner of the seashell to Jeremy’s eyes, and then he couldn’t watch any longer.

Gage’s party seemed to be in full swing already by the time Nadia arrived. She realized she’d gone slightly overboard; most people were in jeans or cords and sweaters, and she’d put on a black dress with a fairly short skirt. Heels, too. Black played a bigger part in her wardrobe than most people’s in town. Probably that was the Chicago city-dweller side coming out. But being overdressed would be worth it to watch Mateo’s expression change when he saw her looking like this.

Though of course they were meeting up here primarily to make plans. Everything else came after that.

But it still wouldn’t hurt to look good.

She weaved through the crowd of people—couples hanging all over each other, girls trying to get six or seven of them together in one hug for a photo. For a moment she remembered that Verlaine was supposed to be there with her, the first party she’d ever been invited to; the wrongness of what had happened to Verlaine would never stop making Nadia feel slightly sick.

In need of comfort, or at least someone else who understood, she kept searching for Mateo in the dark. He would hate this kind of scene as much as she did—

Nadia smiled as she realized that Mateo would be outside waiting for her. It was what she would have done, another way they were alike.

So she stepped outside onto the porch that wrapped around the house. Below, in the sand, some people were crumpling up newspaper and throwing it into a fire pit, trying to keep a sputtering blaze going. Only a couple of people hung out on the porch itself, and Nadia made her way around back.

But Mateo wasn’t there. Instead, sitting on a broad wooden swing, looking kind of forlorn, was Gage.

She ought to say hi, at least. “Hey. Great party.” Hopefully that sounded convincing.

“I guess.” Gage shrugged. Apparently he wasn’t having a great time.

“Have you seen Mateo?”

Gage’s depression seemed to deepen. “Yeah. I saw Mateo.”

Nadia went to him. “What do you mean? What’s the matter?”

“Oh. Oh. This is—awkward.” Gage ran one hand over his braids as he sat up straighter. “Um, listen. I don’t usually gossip, right? But better you hear this from me than Kendall Bender.”

“Hear what?”

“Mateo—I kinda thought you two were—were maybe—you know. But he hooked up with someone else tonight.”

It hit her like a slap. That couldn’t be true. It couldn’t.