Back out quicker than we climbed in, I learned Teeny had not joined us. She sat in the lowest part of the bowl with a paper in her hands. “Hey!” I screamed. “You’re not supposed to be reading that!” I ran and snatched the paper—Aidy’s paper—from her hands.

“Don’t act like you wouldn’t do the same thing if you got the chance,” she said.

“You’re right,” I admitted, tamping down my unwarranted frustration. Teeny’s respect was always best earned through honesty. I hoped she could see how hard I worked to be better. I returned the paper to Aidy.

“How much did you read?” Aidy asked Teeny.

“The first few lines.”

I would never leave my paper behind. I’d folded it down to a tiny square and tucked it into my bra, where I knew it would not be compromised. In remembering my letter’s actual contents, it really was not so private as to be worthy of hiding. If Teeny had read mine, there would be nothing to be that angry about.

Everything is Something, Marley whispered in my mind, reciting the last line from my letter. So much had happened in the last few hours. I felt the delirium of staying up all night and it was barely ten o’clock. “Let’s go through all of this tomorrow,” I said.

“Is this really happening?” Teeny asked no one in particular. “This can’t be happening.”

Nearly everyone but me had asked that question. We had letters. A notebook. A box. Messages spray-painted on concrete walls.

What more proof did they need?

Yes, it was happening.

They’d lost more than Marley in the years since she died. They’d lost their sense of adventure too. Of course they had.

She was our adventure.

“All this time,” Harrison whispered. “We never looked.”

Aidy crossed her arms. “We cannot be upset with ourselves for not looking for letters we had no idea Marley wrote. It’s not like she ever mentioned when her little scavenger hunts were going to start. We didn’t know she’d had one already planned before the accident.”

“We could’ve tried,” Harrison replied. “The Adventure always started sometime in July. We knew that much, at least. It makes sense there would be stuff left. It’s not like she let any of us in on how she planned each one.”

“What were we going to do? Leave her funeral and go hang out in the sewers?” Aidy stalked off, only a few feet. She wasn’t done. Whenever she got emotional, she became unbearably logical. “We were all very young. We had no idea what we were doing most of the time. Continuing to behave the same way we did before we lost Marley wouldn’t have helped any of us,” she said. Two tears rolled down her cheeks. “I won’t put up with any pitying behavior from any of you.”