“Yeah, I’m okay,” I say, trying to make him feel better. Of course, I am not okay, I want to shout. I am in a “detention facility.”

Rachel has hinted that Gideon is seriously freaking out. That he has been ever since I got arrested. It does not help that there is still no sign of my dad. Soon he will have been gone for a week. Rachel has said for the first time that we need to be realistic.

I see no benefit to that.

In describing Gideon, Rachel has tried to surf a more hopeful line—bad shape, but not scary. She took him to see Dr. Shepard and supposedly that helped. Sort of. Or, in other words, not much at all. Rachel was also able to confirm that none of the girls were Dr. Shepard’s patients, not even Teresa. With my dad missing, and me in here, maybe it’s no surprise Gideon is falling apart.

“I wanted to say . . .” Gideon’s voice catches now as we talk on the phone. Is he crying? I have not seen Gideon cry since he was five, and that was only when he’d sliced his finger open with a broken piece of glass. He is really, seriously losing it.

“It’s going to be okay, Gid,” I say, though I’m not at all convinced. Also, I am kind of pissed that I have to cheer him up when I am the one locked away. Still, Gideon’s need right now is real. So real it takes my breath away.

“I’m sorry,” he says, pushing the words out with force.

“You don’t have to be sorry, Gideon. This isn’t your fault.”

“But it is my fault.”

“Seriously, Gid, no it is—”

“I gave them the list, Wylie!”

“What?” And for a second my brain ceases to function—the blood, the nerves, all frozen.

“I’m sorry, I was so—I’m sorry. I emailed that Cornelia guy because I was curious, and he said he agreed with me that it didn’t make sense that it was only girls and that Dad must have made some kind of small error. He said he would look into it, you know. He listened to me. Dad wouldn’t. And so I gave him the list and your name, too. But, I swear, I had no idea what he planned to do.”

I am pressing the phone so hard to my ear, it has started to throb. The crazy thing? I want to hate him, to scream at Gideon that he is selfish and reckless. And evil. But I can’t get myself to say a word. And still I don’t feel a thing.

“Wylie?” Gideon says. “Are you still there? I am so sorry.”