Mom stopped fussing. “It’s not boys who are getting themselves killed around here.” She looked as if she regretted the words, then sighed. “I suppose Grace told you.”

“About the skeleton. But it doesn’t have anything to do with the murder, does it?”

Mom looked at her. “Well, it’s obvious it was another murder. People who die natural deaths don’t get buried in the Danville dump!” she cried.

Rose took a deep breath. “I know you’re worried, Mom. But here I am, safe and sound in bed. Why can’t we just talk about it rationally?” “Because murder isn’t rational!”

“But don’t treat me like a baby.”

“I know you’re not a baby. But I don’t like talking about these things.”

“You wish it would all go away,” Rose said, and she could hear the accusation in her voice. But she was really accusing herself, wishing her dreams away.

“And why not? What’s wrong with a mother wishing for her daughter’s safety?”

“Nobody’s going to get me, Mom.”

Suddenly Rose needed to talk about Jerram. Why were they growing apart? “Mom?”

“Yes?”

But Rose found she couldn’t put it into words. It was hard enough to put it into thoughts. “Nothing.”

Horrible as it was to admit, she was starting to distrust Jerram. Why couldn’t it be the way it used to be between them, when they’d stuck together, shared their thoughts and dreams. Now he was so secretive: visits to Mackey, a friend in Westley, maybe even dreams. What if he was keeping his own dreams of Nancy a secret?

It felt as if a part of her were being torn away, slowly, with a lot of bleeding. She and Jerram were separating, becoming different. All her life, Jerram had been her counterpart, her reflection, her other half.

If Jerram’s thoughts ceased to be her thoughts, if her dreams ceased to be his, then a big hole would form inside of her where Jerram had been. Black, empty, cold … it would make her vulnerable, like a door left open. And what if Nancy tried to get in? What if Nancy wanted to take Jerram’s place, as a sort of doppelganger, to become the other, deathly half of her?

Twelve

Jerram brought a newspaper up to her room when he came home. The discovery of the skeleton was on the front page. It had been determined to be the remains of an adolescent female between the ages of fourteen and eighteen. They were going to try to identify her by her teeth.

“Do skeletons have teeth?” Rose wondered. “Complete with fillings. They can find out who it is by comparing dental records.”

“But how do they know which dentist to ask?” “Start around here, I guess. Except that no girl that age was reported missing in the last five years. That’s how long they think the thing’s been there.”