“That’s not our fault,” Lia said.

“Yeah,” Gem said. “Good luck explaining that to them.”

They got to class a few minutes before the tardy bell. The biology room was completely silent, and even Sam, who usually listened to music without headphones, was staring solemnly at Abby’s empty chair. There was a whole block of empty desks where Abby usually sat, and Lia swallowed. At least they weren’t in the lab. There were three desks between Abby and Lia. Devon had even sat in the normally unoccupied desk near Lia. His tall frame would block her view of Abby’s desk.

They were supposed to be finishing up the chapters on anatomy. Ms. Christie played Planet Earth instead. Even Faith, who usually complained about anything that didn’t go according to plan, was calmly sitting in a chair at the back of the room so that she could get a better view of the screen. She raised one hand to Lia in greeting.

“Hey,” Devon said. He leaned across the aisle to slip a note card beneath her arms. “That’s what the daily quiz was on for Euro History.”

“Thank you,” Lia whispered. Her throat still hurt from crying, but maybe he would think she was just being quiet for the movie. She slid her journal into the metal basket beneath her chair.

She tore out a page from her notebook and wrote, Did you get the email from the Council?

She angled it so Devon could see, and he nodded, pulling out his own sheet of paper. Did the swear jar work?

I don’t know, wrote Lia. In-school suspension seems pretty tame now. What is there left to lose?

Death had never seemed real, but now it was random and unavoidable even if you did everything adults said you should. Why bother with rules?

A bunch of people withdrew. Devon tapped his pen against the paper, dark ink splotches seeping across the white.

Abby’s sweatshirt. Omelet’s fur.

Four years she had waited for this. It wasn’t fair.

I’m going to keep playing no matter what, she wrote. But I understand if you can’t.

She glanced at him, expecting a frown or a sigh, some sort of sign that upright Devon Diaz didn’t approve, but he only crumpled up his note and tucked it into his backpack.

“I thought you might say that,” he whispered. “Do you have a plan?”

“No,” Lia said, sneaking a glance at her phone. She sent a quick email to the Council. “But I will soon.”

“The game is on,” Gem said. It was after school and Lia and Gem were on a bench next to the parking lot. They looked at the texted screenshot on Gem’s phone. “The school will punish anyone found playing the game who breaks school rules, but we don’t play on school grounds anyway.”

Someone had sent Gem a screenshot from the PTA Facebook group, and they hadn’t bothered to cut out the names of the parents with the most to say. Lia’s mom was not happy by the looks of it.