The worst kind of emptiness fills me. Imagine loving someone that much, but imagine them loving you back. I thought I knew what that was like but I didn’t. I never did. She lets him go and wipes her eyes. Trace moves from the desk to the camcorder and hits the record button. I stop watching but I stay against the wall and listen.

“My name is Trace Casper and this is my sister, Grace. We’re seventeen…”

Seventeen and live in Cortege, have lived here all their lives, and attend Cortege High. They’re twins. Birth date: March eleventh … I fade out until it gets more personal.

“Our parents are Troy and Leanne Casper and if they’re still alive, this is for them.” Trace clears his throat. “Grace, say something before the battery dies…”

“We tried to get to you,” she says, and then Trace chimes in, yes, yes, we tried to get to you, and suddenly they’re both talking over each other. It all comes pouring out.

They talk about how we got to the school and how Trace hates Cary and how the dead are outside the doors and it’s the same thudding over and over and how it makes hours feel like days and if the barricades are breached, we have an escape plan but no one knows where we’re going next but as soon as they do, they’ll put it on the tape so the Caspers know too.

There is this awful moment as they try to describe their state of mind. How do you say that physically, you’re okay, when everything is not. They’re determined to make it clear that they’re scared and sad and lonely and missing their parents while trying to pretend they aren’t suffering for it when it’s so obvious they are. The closing message is all I love yous and just before Trace turns the camcorder off, Grace blurts out, “We’re sorry we left you,” and then she starts to cry again and I think it isn’t enough to survive for the sake of surviving. There has to be more to it than just that. Trace and Grace have each other. This is what they’re here for. Why they’re still here. Surviving should mean something like it means something to them. And if it doesn’t—

If it doesn’t.

“Do you think I killed them?”

It’s dusk. Cary and I walk down the dimly lit hallway together. Soon it will be dark. When we reach the fork, I’ll go to the gym and he’ll head to the library to make sure everything’s the same as it was yesterday and the day before that. The constant thudding is wearing on me, like a permanent headache behind my eyes. Talking about the Caspers feels the same way.

Because, of course, Cary wants to talk about the Caspers.

“The Caspers?” I ask. He nods, slowing his pace. “What does it matter?”

“Rhys is on my side. Harrison will say whatever he thinks whoever he’s talking to wants to hear. I know how Grace and Trace feel. I want to know if you think I killed them.”