Ben had asked at midnight. It took them all a while to respond, but when they all had an hour later, he’d said:

Good. Sleep well

Lia did.

Except she woke up half an hour after Ben was supposed to pick her up, and her phone had five messages waiting for her.

Have you heard from Ben? Gem had asked twice.

Devon had replied, No. He’s late for me too

Lia?

You there?

Lia responded and dashed to the bathroom.

I’m here. Maybe he overslept? I did

Gem said: Let me steal the car, and we can see what’s up. I bet he’s asleep

But an uneasy ache wound itself around Lia’s chest as she got into Gem’s car half an hour later. Their plan to meet up and discuss their new target—Nora from Ben’s English class—and figure out how to keep Gem and Devon safe from their assassins was put on hold. Lia’s assassin still hadn’t made themselves known. It was oddly insulting.

The Barnard house was dark when they arrived. The sun had long come up, making empty eyes of the windows bearing down on them. Lia hung back as Devon rang the doorbell, but no one answered. Gem banged on the door for a bit before texting May. She was a few blocks over at a friend’s house. Finally, the three of them hopped the tall wooden fence leading to the backyard.

The patio table was overturned. Broken glass littered the stones and crunched beneath their shoes. The chairs were sideways and broken, legs hanging on by thin strips of wood. Blood, dark and dry, stained the outside wall in a splattered arc. Gem screamed.

“Ben!” Lia darted forward. Last time, she had been dazed. Last time, she had done nothing. “No, no, no, no.”

She leapt over a fallen chair and stumbled to her knees. Ben, unmoving, lay facedown on the patio. The broken glass bit into her knees, and Ben didn’t move or moan when she turned him over. Cuts and scratches peppered the bare skin of his arms. Lia shoved her shoulder against his. He fell onto his back. His head lolled to the side.

The skin around his mouth and nose was red and bubbled as if he had been badly burned. A small silver knife was lodged deep into his left eye. Long gashes had torn his shirt to shreds, and his hand slipped off his chest. The fingers were bent back, bones snapped clean through the skin. The skin from fingertips to elbow was red, raw, and blistered. Lia gagged.

Devon’s voice rumbled behind her, thick and slurred. Gem’s hands closed around her shoulders and pulled her back. Their voice, too, spluttered and slowed, and Lia tried to tell them they weren’t making any sense, she couldn’t hear her own voice. A high-pitched whine built in her ears. Her eyes burned.

Lia vomited against the fence, far away from Ben, and wiped her mouth.

“I don’t know how long….No, he’s not, I mean, there’s no way….No, it’s just us….The backyard,” Devon said into his phone. His free hand was over his eyes, and his head was tilted back. Tears dripped down either side of his face. “Please hurry.”