“Where is she?” I whispered.

Tyler had his hands on the hood of the truck, too, his arms shaking like he was about to fly apart.

“Corinne!” I screamed. “Answer me! What the fuck is wrong with you!”

In a panic, Tyler checked under the truck, and my stomach ended up in my throat. The road was dark and empty, the woods even darker, our headlights pointing back toward the caverns.

“Corinne!” I yelled again, bent over as I screamed her name.

Tyler peered over the edge of the drop-off, jogged down the road a bit before coming back. “I don’t see her,” he said.

“Did I hit her? Did I hit her? No, no, no,” I said, frantically making my way down the rocks. I tripped, my knees catching the sharp edges, my palms gripping the cold stone. The drop-off was dark and steep, and I couldn’t make out any shapes in the shadows.

“Stop, Nic. Stop.” Tyler was following me down the rocks. I couldn’t see her.

“Why would she do that? She jumped in front of me!”

“I know, I saw.” He grabbed my arms to keep me from going any farther. “Your shoulder,” he said, pressing his hand to it. But the pain was in my abdomen, radiating across my back.

My hands were shaking. “She stepped in front of me. They’ll believe me, right?”

His grip on my arms loosened for a moment as something twisted in his face.

“Call 911,” I said, because I couldn’t find her and she wasn’t answering.

He took his phone out with his uninjured hand and looked deep into my eyes as I felt another wave of pain roll through me. “I was driving,” he said.

“What? No. I was driving. Look at your hand. You shouldn’t be driving!”

“You were drinking. You can’t.”

“I didn’t swallow any, I swear.”

“You reek of it. No, it was me.”

“How can you even be talking about this right now? I was driving.” I was yelling now. “Not you. I won’t let you say it. People saw me driving when we left. Remember?”

He shook his head again. Slid his phone back in his pocket. I heard movement in the trees, and I whipped my head in that direction.

“Corinne?” I called. No response. No movement.

Tyler narrowed his eyes at the trees. “Just the wind,” he said.

“Where is she, Tyler?”

He looked into my eyes, but the world was still spinning. “You didn’t hit her,” he said. “This is all one of her fucked-up games.”

“Where is she, then?”

“Hiding. Fucking with us. Laughing right this second. Because she’s fucked up.”

I closed my eyes, picturing it. I could see it so easily. It was so her. Of course she would do that. Of course she would try to ruin every good thing in my life.

“I can fix the truck,” he said almost silently.

I sucked in a breath from another wave of pain, and I nodded.

And in that moment, we made a decision, a pact. We nudged a domino, and it set something off.

“Stay here,” he said. He handed me the key to the caverns. “Go wait for me there. I’ll get my dad’s car. I’ll come back for you.”

“I can make it from here,” I said. “I know the way.”

But I wasn’t going to make it home in time. As another wave of pain rolled through me, I knew I was losing everything tonight.

He looked over his shoulder, his body on edge. “Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said.

I waited until I heard him in the truck, and then I ran. I headed for the caverns, because it was the way I knew how to get home. But I pictured her calling Come find us, and racing into the depths, like she always did, like we used to do together. I unlocked the chain—would she lock it? If she was fucking with me—Yes, I thought, yes, she’d do this. Then I slipped inside, called her name as I gripped the rope. I yelled her name into the dark again and again. “Joke’s over, Corinne!” I left the rope, used my phone to illuminate the space in front of me, searching for her in the darkness, so sure I could hear her breathing but seeing nothing. No one.

One more wave of pain, and the fear gave way to anger. She was ruining me without even flinching.

I gripped the rope as I pulled myself back out.

It wasn’t until much later that night, when I was all alone, that I realized I had lost Tyler’s ring.

* * *

SHE HAD TO HAVE jumped out of the way. She had to have hidden. She had to have been killed in some other way—another car, another accident, throwing herself from the ledge to the rocks below. It cannot be that my dad heard us and knew it had been me. It cannot be that he found her after we left. Not that he took the body and moved it so I wouldn’t be found out, so my life wouldn’t be ruined.

Tyler promised I had done nothing wrong. And so it must be something else.

Otherwise, it’s too brutal in its simplicity.

Ten years later, and the past is still here. A picture shifting into focus. A memory gaining clarity. Something whispering to me in the dark: Look, Nic, do you see?

It was time to open my eyes.

   The Day Before

   DAY 1—

Night

I was tired from the long drive and the visit with Dad, and dirty from an afternoon of housecleaning, but there was still so much to do. Be the responsible one, I thought. But I already was—I just wished Daniel could see that. I’d made promises, and trades, and decisions that Daniel could only begin to understand.

The sink faucet and the drain had turned brown with rust. I rummaged through Daniel’s box of supplies, poured the rust remover down the drain, listened to the crackle of the chemical reaction.

I slid the thick yellow gloves over my hands and took out the scrub brush, but the ring was twisted, the rock catching on the inside of the rubber any time I bent my fingers. I removed the glove, slid the ring off my finger, and placed it in the middle of the kitchen table, in my direct line of sight. Something to tie me to the outside, a reminder that I had moved on from Cooley Ridge.

I tackled the sink and the counters, vaguely satisfied with myself, meticulously scrubbing and buffing it all to a shine. The ringing phone was a welcome relief. My eyes had started to go blurry, and I wiped my arm against my forehead to brush the hair back, pulled one of the gloves off my hand. “Hello?”

“Hey. Sorry I’m calling back so late,” Everett said.