Edie took her mom’s hand and tugged her toward the door. Gabe followed. They were done here.

No one spoke on the way home. Back in the house, Nathan walked Lydia upstairs and Edie’s parents asked her to stay down on the first floor.

“Your father shared what you told him,” whispered Michelle. “Can I…” Her mother stepped forward, her face red and wet and crumpled, crying openly, and wrapped her arms around Edie. “I’m so sorry, baby. I…”

“It’s okay, Mom,” said Edie, closing her eyes and allowing herself to fall into the comfort, the closure, of the embrace. “I’m okay. Let’s just find Claudia.”

CLAUDIA

The guy who attacked her at TGI Fridays heard the bartender say her ticket was for Woods Hole, so she couldn’t go to the Vineyard. As Claudia rushed through the Port Authority to the escalator at the corner of Forty-First Street, her teeth were chattering. Her body screamed, Go! She had no more fight in her, only flight. She had to get off the island.

The last train to Poughkeepsie left in an hour. She was pretty sure Edie and Nathan kept a key under the mat. She bought a quarter bottle of wine and a bag of popcorn at a bodega around the corner from Grand Central and got a seat by the window on the 11:59 leaving from Track 71.

As the train pulled above ground in Harlem, the hot buzz of adrenaline that had been roaring through her body since she put the blade to Chad’s face began its work on her brain. Were they all in on it? Ridley had to have sent the guy at the bar. Did Trevor tell him where she’d be? For all she knew Ridley and Chad had given Trevor money to bump into her at the dorm. Ridley could have even told her mom about the video. Maybe that’s why Edie had been so cold. Maybe they were disgusted. Maybe they really were worried about her germs.

Claudia looked at her reflection in the scratched plastic window. She watched herself drink wine from the bottle. She reached into her bag and found the PReP pills she was supposed to take. Look at Claudia Castro, she thought. Chasing her HIV meds with wine. Claudia Castro is a drama queen. Claudia Castro is a slut. Did Claudia Castro know the guy at the pool party had a girlfriend? Did she care? Is Claudia Castro crazy?

There were two cabs idling in the roundabout outside the Poughkeepsie station. She gave the driver her sister’s address, and when he started the car her bag fell forward, spilling the contents onto the floor of the back seat. The bottle of wine, the box cutter in the plastic bag,