“Now, if you look at the next item on the syllabus,” Ms. Payton said in a wavering voice, adjusting the wire-rimmed glasses on her nose, “it talks about lab work. It’s going to be very important in this class, at least thirty percent of your grade, so I suggest you take it seriously.”
Several boys from the JV crew team snorted. Vera, Emily’s lab partner, whose military jacket was faded and ripped but had a tiny tag on the back that said DOLCE & GABBANA, looked at the teacher with stoned eyes. Hanna had warned Emily about how freaky summer school was—“I didn’t recognize, like, anyone,” she’d said dramatically.
Emily didn’t think it was that bad. Hanna was right about two things, though. One, Rosewood Day did seem eerie without its normal hustle and bustle. Emily had never noticed how creaky the doors were, or that there were so many long, ominous shadows around corners, or that so many of the overhead lights flickered. And two, no one particularly cared about passing the class.
Don’t you realize how lucky we are to get to graduate? Emily wanted to yell at her classmates. But maybe you didn’t appreciate that sort of thing until it was taken away.
Then Vera tapped Emily’s arm. “Hey. What was it like to almost, like, die?”
Emily looked away. Sometimes she forgot that her classmates knew everything about her. “Um . . .”
“I remember Alison,” Vera went on. “She told me I looked like a troll.” She curled and uncurled her fists. “But hey, at least she’s dead, right?”
Emily didn’t know what to say. It was always a shock that her classmates remembered Ali, too—Emily had spent so much time obsessing over her it sometimes felt as if Ali were a figment of her imagination, unknown and unknowable to everyone else. But actually, her classmates had known both Alis: Courtney, their old friend, and the sociopathic real Ali, who’d tried to kill them twice.
And who was definitely still alive.
“So here are your books,” Ms. Payton said, handing a stack to the front row and asking them to pass them back. “Would someone like to read the introduction page for the class?”
A bunch of kids snickered, and Ms. Payton looked like she was going to cry. Poor thing, Emily thought. Didn’t she know that the reading-aloud thing stopped in elementary school?
Feeling a surge of sympathy, she raised her hand. “I’ll do it.”
She turned to the first page and started to read in a loud, strong voice. Rosewood Day had given her a gift by allowing her back here, and the least she could do was pay it forward.
Even if it meant everyone in the class was now laughing at her, too.
A few hours later, Emily pulled into her family’s driveway, cut the engine of her parents’ Volvo station wagon, and ducked under the garage door, which was halfway open, probably in need of repair again. The garage door opened into the den, which smelled like potpourri. The first thing Emily saw was her mother sitting on the couch, a blanket wrapped around her legs and a knitting project in her lap. The TV flashed blue against her face. It was a show on HGTV about custom building a pimped-out doghouse.
Mrs. Fields turned and saw her. Emily froze and considered scurrying away. But then her mother smiled. “How was your first day back?” she asked weakly.
Emily slowly relaxed. Her mom’s acceptance and friendliness was still unexpected: Two weeks ago, her parents hadn’t been speaking to her. Emily hadn’t even been allowed to visit her mom in the hospital room when she had a mild heart attack.
Crazy how fast things could change.
“It was fine,” Emily said, sitting on the striped loveseat. “So, um, do you need anything?” The cardiologist had advised Mrs. Fields to take it easy for the next few weeks. Emily’s sisters, Carolyn and Beth, had been here, helping out, but they had both left for summer programs at their respective colleges yesterday.
“Maybe some ginger ale.” Mrs. Fields blew her a kiss. “Thanks, honey.”
“Sure,” Emily said, rising and padding into the kitchen.
Her smile dropped as soon as she turned her back. Déjà vu, she thought. Emily had lost count of all the times her family had disowned her and then, after a tragedy, welcomed her back with open arms. After Nick’s attack, when she opened her eyes in the hospital and saw her whole family standing there, she’d almost burst out laughing. Could they really go through this again? But her father had leaned down and said in a heartfelt voice, “We will never let you go, honey.” Her siblings had hugged her tight, all of them crying. And her mother had said, “We love you so much.”
Emily was grateful that they’d come around again, of course. But she also felt jaded. Would something else happen to make them drop her once more? Should she bother to get attached? And Emily didn’t dare bring up that she believed Ali was still alive—her family would think she was nuts.
It was sad not having her family as her touchstone anymore. Something huge was missing from her life, a hole she needed to fill. But she didn’t know what would satisfy her. Finding Ali? Definitely. But she had a feeling that wasn’t entirely it.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” Mrs. Fields’s voice floated in from the den. “There’s mail for you on the kitchen table. Who do you know from the Ulster Correctional Facility?”
Emily almost dropped the ginger ale she’d taken from the fridge. She walked over to the table, which was covered in a creaseless, chicken-print tablecloth. The daily mail was tucked under the chicken-shaped napkin holder. There was a white, wrinkled, square envelope with Emily’s name right on top. Sure enough, the stamp on it said ULSTER CORRECTIONAL FACILITY in smeared letters.