“I don’t think so, at least not yet.” Marwan reached out and squeezed her hand, and she thought she might start crying. “Because maybe this thing with the video will lead to something?”

She nodded. “And in the meantime, we try to think of a way to get rid of it? That maybe doesn’t involve the police?”

“Yes,” he said, releasing her hand. “You have time now?”

“I have to meet my friend,” she said. “She’s been asking a lot of questions since the beginning of all this, and I need to get her to stop before something bad happens to her, too.”

“Okay,” Marwan said, and she hugged him again. It was a longer hug this time, maybe because they were alone, and she felt him inhaling her—his mouth by her hair, his chest rising into hers. She felt his deep breath as if it were her own, and for once her ribs felt right.

Anjali had agreed to meet at Starbucks, so Eden headed in that direction and tried to compose herself on the way. Before going in, she stopped on the sidewalk and took a few deep inhales—which she then exhaled in loud bursts. She put on some lip gloss and smoothed her hair. She turned her phone on—nothing—then turned it off again and put it in her bag.

Anjali was already seated with an iced latte.

Eden didn’t even want anything to drink, so she just went and sat next to Anjali and said, “Turn your phone off.”

“What? Why?”

“Just do it. Please?”

Anjali did, then put her phone facedown on the table.

Eden turned it over to make sure it was actually off, then put it down again. “You have to trust me when I say that I can’t explain it.”

“You’ve been using me.” Anjali sipped her drink through a metal straw she’d bought after signing a petition against single-use plastics citywide.

“And I’m sorry about that,” Eden said. “But if I tell you what’s going on, you might be in danger.”

“You’re freaking me out,” Anjali said. “Why are you crying?”

“Something bad happened,” Eden said, not even having realized she’d started crying but now feeling it, yes. Warm and wet.

“What?” Anjali asked.

Eden could only shake her head, wipe away tears on both sides with two flat hands. “I’ll explain everything after tomorrow.”

“Why, what’s tomorrow?”

Eden shook her head.

“Are you being, like, blackmailed? Because you can tell me. I’ll help.”

“No,” Eden said. “It’s not like that.” If only!

“Something happened,” Anjali said, sounding almost sinister. “In Mr. M’s room that afternoon.”