My mother twisted around in her seat, even though it was too dark for us to see each other’s expressions. “Are they going to put us in a safe house?”

“I don’t know, Mom, maybe.” Looking at the last text—I’ll know if you try to screw me—I tapped the word Unknown, but there was no way to call it back. I held the phone to my ear, as if waiting. After a few seconds, I said, “Alondra, we’re on our way to the station. Call me.”

My mother sighed and turned back around. “It’ll be okay,” I told her. “Once we get to the station, we’ll be safe.”

And I imagined the relief. Running into the building, all of us together. I’d call Michael and Alondra, the police and the FBI would converge on the museum, and …

And Lena would be gone. She’d disappear again, and my family would stay in purgatory, never safe, never at ease, never truly free. And if Lena did kill Aimee, they’d think Michael and I were both in on it, especially with the lies Brady was telling now. Grace could grow up with this shadow blighting her life. No playdates, shunned at school, pointed out by strangers. Her dad’s a killer, her mom’s a psycho.

Maybe I could ask the police to take my phone and go after Lena. But if she was using the camera or listening in, she’d know it was a trick. And she’d disappear to plot revenge.

At least I should tell my parents what was happening. They were going to be so terrified, so guilty, so angry that I was doing this alone. But it was worth it to keep them safe.

I pulled up Aimee’s social media feed, the one I’d been examining when Lena’s text came through. Coincidence, or had Lena been waiting? As I swiped through the photos now, scrutinizing the backgrounds, trying to focus on the shaking screen, I felt an absolute certainty that Lena was there. Now I remembered the way Lena used to watch people, even me, with a cold steadiness when she thought herself unobserved. She’d been quick to anger, showed absolute disdain for pretentious “stupid” people, and was as ready to fight my battles as her own. At the time, it had felt like validation, like someone on my side. I’d been the one who was stupid.

If Lena really was there, she’d be watching Aimee and relying on my phone to let her know where I was. I’d find her, distract her, and then contact the police. The station was so close.

I’m strong. I can do this. But the affirmations were just covering up a deeper whisper. I’m going to die.