(I've emailed and texted. If I think about it too much I'm going to have to medicate again.)

Casper had planned on coming over tonight, but backed out at the last minute saying she wasn't feeling so hot. This marks the very first time she's cancelled plans on me, and I might've freaked out over it had the exhaustion in her voice not been so evident.

But she calls just as I'm finishing up the kitchen, and she tells me she slept all day and now she's not going to be able to sleep tonight. My hands smell like cleaner. I wipe them on my jeans and sink down onto the bed, popping open my laptop. Nothing more has happened with Suicide Watch, but I keep an eye on the news just the same.

I saved all the emails from Harbinger.

Just in case.

I don't know what I'll do with them.

"I've been cleaning," I tell Casper.

"Glad to know my absence promotes productivity." Casper yawns. "Seriously. I think I'm gonna try to get back to sleep. Screwing up my sleep schedule is so not okay and the internet is boring tonight."

"Hold up." I hold the phone between my cheek and shoulder so my right hand is free to maneuver the touchpad, my heart doing acrobatics in my throat. "I have an email from Adam."

"Oh, weird. So do I."

We're both silent while we read. Eventually Casper scoffs and sighs, "Just lyrics."

In My Life. I told Adam in an email once it was one of my favorite Beatles songs and he agreed it was one of his, too. I don't ask Casper if she got the same email as I did, because something is off.

(Three calls, four emails, two texts. No response.)

I know these lyrics like I know my own name. There's a wrong line. And maybe this is a stupid thing to notice, but I do notice, because this is Adam and how would Adam of all people, with his meticulous attention to detail and his love of The Beatles, ever get a word wrong in one of their songs?

But some are dead and some are living has suddenly become some are dead and some are dying and the only person in Adam's life who would notice he changed something so stupid and seemingly insignificant on purpose is...

I can't breathe.

"You still there? What's wrong?"

"I have to go," is all I manage, sliding off the bed. "Call 911. Adam's going to do it." Is doing it. Has done it.

Oh.

God.

I am...

CHAPTER 19

I throw myself behind the wheel of the van and tear off for the freeway to Adam's house. If it weren't for my last visit, I wouldn't have remembered the way. I could have gotten lost. I could have forgotten which house it was. As it is, what if I'm driving too slowly? What if I'm too late?

What if.

What if.

The automatic gates are already open because there are two ambulances outside, lights flashing red, red, red. I pull up as one of them is leaving, sirens blaring high and loud and urgent.