“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.

I’ve reached the end of the hall and I’m at the classroom door I saw the man standing at. I push it open. It’s Mr. Baxter’s room. My annoyance at Rhys disappears when I step inside. I move down an aisle of desks, touching my hands to them as I pass. The wrongness of it all creeps up on me. I don’t want to forget the function of this place.

I don’t want to forget how it used to be.