Priya sits next to Lucie, far enough away to give her the space she so clearly wants, but close enough so Lucie knows she’s there for her.

“You were amazing, Piper,” Theo compliments. “You didn’t show any fear.”

“Could you hear us?”

He shakes his head.

“So do we think the surveillance is image-only or they just didn’t allow you to hear the sound?” I ask.

Maybe they can’t hear us in here.

Theo shrugs. “I’m not counting on anything.”

I sit on the sofa that’s next to Lucie and Priya. Hazel and Theo follow and sit on either side of me. I grip the string of my friendship bracelet and spin it around my wrist. Sinking back against the cushions, I tuck my legs under myself.

Hazel lays her hand over mine, stopping my fiddling with the bracelet. She knows I do it when I’m nervous or anxious. When my sister first died, I nearly wore it out. “Are you really okay, Pipes?”

“I’m fine,” I reply, removing my hand as her touch makes my stomach squirm. I don’t want anyone that close to me again for a long, time. Her tender touch doesn’t feel right to me. I’m waiting for pain, though I know she wouldn’t hurt me. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

What happened in that room happened to the other Piper. That wasn’t me.

She nods. “Okay, whatever you want.”

I lower my voice and say, “The wall in the waiting room has been built out. I think because of the window.”

Theo’s eyes widen. “Really?”

“It sounded hollow when I knocked on it, and it moved slightly when I bumped into it. Definitely not solid.”

That makes Lucie glance up. “There’s a way out,” she whispers, her empty eyes now lighting with hope.

“Looks that way,” I reply, careful not to make any promises. This is all my opinion. I could be wrong. I’m not a builder. I have pretty limited experience with construction work, and I’m by no means qualified to make the call I’ve just made. But my dad did teach me a few things, and the wall definitely sounded the same as it did when we knocked on our old kitchen wall.

“Let’s go, then.”

“The door is locked, Lucie,” Theo points out. “We can’t do it now.”

“We can’t do it when they’re here because they’ll be watching us,” I say. “There are times when it’s quiet, and I think they’ve gone. They have to leave to keep up pretenses at home. What’s the day? The hospital fund-raiser is on August fifth. They’re always at those events. I know we can’t be sure that one of them won’t stay behind, or that there aren’t more people involved, but I think it’s the best chance.”