He looked at the movie screen and pretended to watch. His face lit up in shades of orange and red from the fire on the screen. He kept talking, and I had to lean forward to hear him. “But I couldn’t. I was stuck. And that night she stopped talking. I don’t remember anything after that. But I woke up in the hospital with no one at my bedside. I wasn’t allowed to die. I couldn’t even end her suffering.”

“Then why not just tell them? Tell them they’re dying? Let them make that choice for themselves?”

“They don’t have the guts to do it themselves. They want to, but they can’t.”

“No. You’re wrong. I’d want to live. I’d want to try.”

“Even if you’re suffering? Not me. I’d want to make it quick.”

My brain spun so I stared at the explosions on the screen, trying to orient myself. But I got that feeling again, like vertigo. I closed my eyes, but it wasn’t any better. I felt like I was falling.

“My neighbor. The open windows. That was you. My parents thought it was me.” I wasn’t speaking into his ear anymore, so I didn’t know if he was ignoring me or if he hadn’t heard me.

“And the fire. Are you out of your freaking mind? How is that not suffering?” I looked at the mark on my hand, still visible.

Troy lurched over my seat and hissed into my ear. “He took a tranquilizer. He was out. I swear it. He didn’t feel a thing. I promise you.”

“Troy, when you came for me, you should know—I wanted to live. I wanted to live!” I remembered the feeling when I woke. The screaming. “You made me suffer.”

He flinched. “You don’t understand. They shouldn’t have kept you alive. You should’ve seen yourself, machines breathing for you, feeding you, numbing you. If they would’ve just left you alone, you wouldn’t have suffered. And I tried. I came to help you every day. And when your parents and the nurses and the ten thousand doctors who thought they were helping finally left, I still couldn’t get to you because of that goddamn boy.”

“Decker?”

“Whoever. He was so sad and pathetic. Just sitting there waiting for you to wake up. Watching you suffer. Letting them keep you like that. If he cared about you at all, he would’ve let you die.”

“I wanted to live,” I said again, but lower this time.

“You didn’t know what you wanted.”

“But I did live. So you can’t know. It’s not final. It’s not one hundred percent. There’s always a chance.”

He looked at me. “You think you’re alive?”

I dug my nails into my palm, just to make sure. “I’m not dead.”

“Doesn’t mean you’re alive.”

I stood up abruptly and stepped over Troy. “Don’t come near me ever again.”

He gripped my arm, the one with the bruise, and I winced. “Don’t be stupid, Delaney.” Then he stood up and walked with me to the exit.

The lobby was empty except for the kid at the concession stand, staring mindlessly at the popping popcorn. “I’ll tell. I swear it. I’ll tell about me, and I’ll tell about you. I’ll tell them what you’ve done.”

“What have I done? Tell me, exactly. Please, I’m dying to hear this. I knew your neighbor was sick, so I opened her windows? For real?” He narrowed his eyes at me. “You think your parents will believe you?”

“But the fire, there were witnesses. Someone must’ve seen you.”

He smiled at me, but all I could focus on was the chip in his tooth, the darkness behind it. “Who do you think they noticed?” he said. “Me, dressed in black, or you, in a bright red jacket?” He paused to let me think about that. “And what do you think the evidence will say? Did you touch anything? I wore gloves. Hmm, I wonder if there’s anything tying you to the scene of the crime.” He pressed down on my palm and I cried out. The bored teenager glanced up momentarily, then went back to watching the popcorn. “What, exactly, do you think they’ll do to you, Delaney?”

Images flashed in my mind. Pills. My arms tied to the bed. The hospital. Or worse. I pushed through the double doors and squinted from the glare of the sun off the snow. Troy moved his hand from my arm to shade his eyes. And in that one instant, I ran.

I ran across the street just as a truck lumbered behind me. I turned to look back at the movie theater, and Troy stood there with his arms casually at his sides, eyes narrowed at me. He stepped nonchalantly into the road and started toward me. I ran to the end of the block, past the pizza place, in the direction of home. Six blocks. Six snow-covered blocks to the edge of the lake, a left, and one block back from the water. I’d never make it. If Troy wanted to catch me, he would. I turned back to the pizzeria, but Troy was already there, standing directly under the green overhang above the front door.