“Shut up,” Mason says, and as predicted, Reg continues on.

The threats that Reg makes against Logan and Cade send shivers down Mason’s spine. He forces his fingers to stay open at his side even though they want to curl into a fist to pound Reg’s face. Mason stands there and listens to every. Single. Word.

Chapter 53

NEW YORK COMMISSIONER OF EDUCATION, FRANK MUNRO,

ANNOUNCES RIVIERE HIGH SCHOOL ASSIGNMENT WILL NEVER BE GIVEN AGAIN

Chapter 54: Logan

CADE: Can I come over?

ME: Of course.

CADE: I’m outside your side door.

I drop my phone on my bed, run down our back stairs into the kitchen, then into the entryway, and fling open the door. The motion sensor light shines on Cade. He lifts his head, and I get the biggest shock of my life. He looks absolutely wrecked.

“What happened?”

He takes one step, reaches for me, and buries his face in my neck. “Nana,” he chokes out. His hands come around my back and clasp onto my shoulders. He’s shaking. I brace us against the doorframe to hold us both up. Something unthinkable has happened to Nana. Tears pool in my eyes. I can’t form words to ask the question that might lead to the answer I fear the most.

I tighten my grip around Cade’s waist. His warm tears drip into my Georgetown sleep shirt. My skin cools in the bitter cold wind. Goose bumps rise over my arms and legs, and the freezing cement numbs the bottom of my feet. But I hold on, hold on and try to imagine how we’ll live without Nana.

He takes several deep breaths and pulls away. “I’m sorry.”

“W-what happened to Nana?”

“She’s okay. Or as okay as she can be under the circumstances.” He pauses. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have scared you like that. I just—I had to get away.”

I nod as if I understand, but I don’t. In the kitchen, Cade takes off his coat and drapes it over a chair.

“I’m confused. Did something else happen?”

Cade leans against the kitchen counter. He struggles to speak. “Where’s your laptop?”

“Upstairs.”

He motions with his head to the stairwell, and I lead the way to my bedroom.

Kicking off his shoes, he flops onto the pillows I have propped up against my bed’s headboard. “Look up Gross-Rosen concentration camp,” he says, then closes his eyes. “Read about it, then tell me when you’re done.”