No one.

“It’s just us.” Cary rubs his eyes. “Jesus, I could have used twelve more hours.”

I bury my head in my knees.

“It’s okay,” Grace says, rubbing my back. I melt at her warmth. It goes straight to the deadest parts of me. “It was probably a nightmare.”

“How’s your head feel?” Rhys asks.

“Go to hell,” I mutter. I feel Grace’s surprise and then I forget the only two people that know Rhys and I are not okay right now are me and Rhys.

“I’m just saying—”

“It’s not that.”

But maybe it is that.

“Has it happened before?” Grace asks.

This is the worst moment, walking myself into that question. My silence is as good as yes and then she starts in with this gentle line of questioning—when, where were you, how did you feel. I go as far back as the nurse’s office in my recounting but I don’t tell them about those first few days after we got here when I imagined his cologne. Except if I knew the cologne wasn’t real and I think this is, then maybe I did hear someone in the hall, I did.

Didn’t I?

“No one could get in,” Cary says firmly. “We made sure of that.”

It’s morning. When I look at the windows overhead, the sky is gray-white and I think it might rain. Maybe they’re right. No one is in this school. Maybe it’s just me, my head.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

Cary crouches in front of me. His closeness sends Grace to her feet. She moves away from both of us. There is this moment before she goes, though, where her eyes meet his.

“You’ve been hurt. You got scared,” Cary says. “It happens.”

It happened.

Everyone treats me way too nicely because of the things I think I’ve seen. They don’t want me to feel awkward but it makes me feel awkward. I last about half the morning in their company, trying to act more okay than I feel when the whole charade starts to get to me and I excuse myself. I decide to retrace my steps last night and I’m all of five minutes alone before Rhys shows. I want to tell him to go away, but what does it matter. He’ll always be here.

All of us will always be here.

This place is a coffin.

“So are you trying to scare us all out of the school?” Rhys asks. “Am I going to have to watch you to make sure you’re not going to fuck with us so you can find some dramatic way to leave?” I don’t say anything and he studies me. “If you’re not lying, it could be a concussion or something. Underneath that bandage, you’re missing a chunk of your forehead. It’s probably going to scar.”

My hand moves to the bandage. I push at it.

The sting is so sour I can almost taste it.

“Why are you out here?” I ask him.

“Why are you?” he asks back.