“What was that about Ransom?” asks a familiar voice. We all turn to see Pru and Pippa standing there on the lawn, outside the chapel, arm in arm.

I don’t think. I don’t need to. I reach out to engulf Pru in my arms. I’m reminded of the start of school last year, when she hugged me and I held on for dear life. Now, the tables have turned. She has lost a loved one: her mother. And unlike Ollie, Pru’s mom isn’t coming back.

“Pru,” I choke.

Her face is pressed up against my bare shoulder, and I feel hot, wet tears on my skin. My words feel inadequate, and it’s because I know there’s not a thing I can say to her right now that will make losing her mother okay.

“I’m hanging in there,” Pru answers when we break apart. “Really.”

The Similars are hugging Pippa, asking how she is.

“We went through my mom’s things,” Pru explains to the group. “Sorted a lifetime’s worth of belongings. My old tests. A bunch of picture frames and macaroni jewelry I made her as a kid. I still can’t believe she’s really gone.” Pippa squeezes Pru’s arm, and the others fold in for a group hug. “I kept this,” Pru adds, pulling a necklace out from beneath her hoodie. It’s gold, with a little sailboat and some kind of blue stone. Pru’s wearing it right next to her Darkwood key. “My mom got it as a gift to herself on my fourteenth birthday. It reminded her of me, because of my rowing. And Pippa took one of Mom’s rings.”

Pippa holds up her hand, displaying a delicate gold band. A single, tiny diamond glints in the light. “Jaeger wanted me to have it,” Pippa says, her voice contemplative, even more so than usual.

I’d wondered how Pru would feel about Pippa being there with her over the summer while Pru’s mom was in hospice. Whether she’d want this girl who had only recently joined their family to share in that heartbreakingly special and sad time. When I flew to Jaeger’s farm for the funeral, Pru told me that Pippa was keeping a respectable distance. Not acting like she had any claims to Pru’s mom. She’s been more of a support system to Jaeger and Pru than anything else.

We’re going to be late if we don’t head inside, so we wordlessly file into the chapel for the first assembly of the year.

I grab Pru’s hand as we filter in. “If you need anything. Any time, any place. I’m your girl,” I tell her.

“You came all the way to Castor Island last year to find me,” Pru reminds me with a wry smile. “I’m pretty sure you’ve got my back.”