There seemed to be nothing more to say after that. Alice stood. She was happy that she and Maggie had talked, but still, couldn’t help feeling oddly unsatisfied. Yet she wasn’t sure why. It was like Maggie had said all the right words, but they were just that—words. Like the emotion behind them was wrong somehow. No, not wrong exactly. More too little. Or maybe that wasn’t it at all. Maybe Alice had this flat, muted feeling because she’d guessed at so much of the truth already, was only having these guesses confirmed, no new information or twists. Or maybe because she’d been expecting some big cathartic moment, a mother-daughter hugging-and-crying scene, and there hadn’t been one. Or maybe it was just because she was too keyed up from an overly exciting day and everything seemed anticlimactic now. That was probably it. She leaned over, kissed her mom’s cheek.

She was just at the threshold, about to cross it, when she remembered Camilla’s name in the ledger book at the library, the date beside it preceding Martha’s death by a mere week. She turned around, about to ask her mom what she made of that weird little detail, then thought better of it. This was real life, so there were bound to be loose ends. Why stir the pot? She had all the answers she needed.

“What is it, honey?” her mom said.

“Nothing. Just wanted to say good night one more time.”

“Good night, baby. Sweet dreams.”

“You too.”

• • •

The dream Alice had that night was anything but sweet.

She was roused from sleep by a scratching noise. It was late, though she didn’t know how late exactly because her clock was facing away from her. She sat up in her bed, rubbed her eyes, looked around. Sitting at her desk under the window was a girl, pen in hand, face bent close to the page she was writing on, blond hair glossy in the low lamplight. At first Alice was confused, thought it was herself she was observing, only looking better than she’d ever looked. Then, with a gasp, she realized her mistake.

It was Camilla.

Her dead stepsister was wearing the same outfit she wore in the photo with Tommy in the clubhouse: collared shirt, tennis skirt, sneakers, hair in a high ponytail. The only weird part—well, the whole thing was weird part, the weirdest part—was that Camilla was in black and white, just like she was in the picture. Everything else in the room was in color.