Harold puts his hands on his hips. "Will you take a deep breath and talk to me, Vince?"

I stop pacing and look at him. Really, really look at him. Closer than I've ever cared to look at him before. I see he has circles under his eyes from not sleeping. There's a wrinkle in his shirt. His hair isn't combed as neatly as it was last time I saw him. And I realize...he's been smiling at me these last few months, but it was only for my sake. Because he thought I needed him to.

I am the world's shittiest person.

My jaw clenches so tightly it hurts. "I went to a friend's funeral today. She killed herself because she was dying of cancer."

Harold opens his mouth into a startled 'o,' and then his eyes soften. "I'm sorry to hear that, kiddo."

But I'm not done. Suddenly, out of nowhere, my mouth is opening and I'm launching into the details about Suicide Watch. About how Harbinger is in big trouble and I think the evidence I have from my computer and Casper's could get him in even bigger trouble, but the whole thing is too big for me to wrap my mind around. I don't know where to start. Who to contact. If I could get in any trouble for it. If Casper's parents would miss out on the life insurance money if it came to light Casper was a part of all this and committed suicide.

Harold listens silently, nodding once in awhile to show he's paying attention. When I'm done, I wipe at my eyes. Not crying, exactly, but close enough that I feel pretty pathetic. How many people have wandered by and stared at the weird kid in the parking lot, going on a rant to the tired lawyer? Sounds like the beginning of a bad joke.

He runs a hand over his face. "You've had a lot going on, haven't you?"

I shrug helplessly, because this isn't really about me. I don't think. It's about Casper and Adam, and Harbinger going to jail so he'll never hurt anyone again.

"Look." Harold's hands come to rest on my shoulders. I force my eyes to meet his. "I told you before, whatever happens, I'm here to help. All right? This whole thing will get taken care of. I'll do some research into the case. You just gather up the evidence, as much as you can, and let me handle the rest."

My shoulders slump, the tension sucked right out of them. "Okay," I say quietly, and then, "Thank you."

The grin he gives me is a comforting one. I know he's troubled by all of this; I can see it in his eyes. He doesn't ask me why I joined the website or why I was talking with Harbinger. He doesn't ask how seriously I was considering killing myself, or if I still am. I don't know if I'd have answers to anything he could possibly ask.