"Hello."

"I just read your email. Vinny, oh my god, I'm so, so sorry."

I roll my gaze to the ceiling. How long has it been since I sent that? And she's just now sitting down to read it? Either that, or she read it ages ago and couldn't think of what to say. "Yeah, well, you know."

"I had no idea when I talked to you—are you all right? Do you need anything?"

What a funny moment for a flashback.

School. Hallways. Guys slamming me into the lockers and calling me a fag.

Corey getting between us and screaming in his face, before turning to me. Are you all right, are you okay, Vinny, I'm so sorry...

Then I think about Harold, calling every few days to give me an update on whatever paperwork he's doing and getting me the money he says I have coming. I think about Casper, who I've talked to nearly every day online through Suicide Watch for the last three weeks, and the bridge, and Jessica, and the dogs at the shelter who will be dead soon, and RoxWell who messages me with random lyrics from Beatles songs, but never says anything otherwise.

Amidst all that, I try to figure out if I need anything from Corey, and I come up blank.

"I could've used a friend," I say. "But it's too late for that."

"Vinny—"

"You were right, you know? We've got nothing in common anymore. You've moved on. So don't worry about it now just because you're feeling guilty. I've gotta go." I don't wait for her to answer before hanging up. She doesn't call back.

This is how you get rid of someone before they can get rid of you.

The guys upstairs finish with Maggie's bed and drag it out to their truck. They end up buying her dresser, too, as an afterthought. Once they leave, the house is now fifty percent empty, and my heart hurts.

There's a message from Casper waiting for me when I sign onto the forums. The last one I'd sent her before she signed off last night had been:

NowhereMan: So I have kind of a weird question. I was looking through the pictures and videos and stuff, and you know, the guy who runs the site is labeled as having taken some of them. What's up with that?

It was a trend I noticed. People that lived in or around Harbinger's city. He seems nice enough from his forum posts, though I've never spoken to him directly.

It's awhile before Casper responds to me.

Casper: What's your email address?

A weird question in response to my weird question. Okay. Casper and I have talked about everything under the sun the last two weeks. Art, music, movies, celebrity gossip, and other stupid crap, but never anything of depth. Never anything that matters. I don't know if it's because I'm holding her at arm's length, or she's doing it with me, but there's a wall between us and neither of us seem to mind. Regardless, I send her my address and a few minutes later, my regular email pings.