“Marayah, honey?” Mom poked her head through my bedroom door and looked around.

“I’m in here, Mom,” I said from the closet. I stood quickly and threw the pillow into the corner, not wanting her to know I had been hiding in my dark closet, alone. That really wouldn’t go over well for me.

“What are you doing in there?” she asked. “Did you want to change clothes before we eat?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I just wanted to look around. Make sure nothing was missing, I guess.”

She tilted her head to look at me, and I realized I was going to have to get used to every little choice, action, and word being scrutinized from here on out. I would never just be normal, responsible Marayah again. I would always be broken in her eyes.

And a liar.

“Missing?” she said. “Why would anything be missing?”

I shrugged. “I have a lot of nice clothes and a little sister who’s only a few years younger than I am,” I said. “I was worried she would have cleared out half my closet by now and moved it to her own room.”

Mom smiled, apparently pleased with that answer. “Don’t be silly,” she said. “We didn’t let anyone into your room while you were gone. You’ve been through so much, honey. We wanted everything to be perfect when you came home. Just like it was.”

She leaned over and kissed my forehead, taking a long moment to smooth my hair and pull it back from my shoulders. When she finally stepped away, there were tears in her eyes. Again.

“Mom, don’t cry,” I mumbled.

“I’m sorry. You just have no idea how happy I am that you’re finally home,” she said. “When we got that call the night of the crash—”

Her choked sobs cut off the rest of her statement, and she pressed a hand to her lips.

“I know, Mom,” I said, thinking of Hailey and how her mom had gotten a very different call that night. “But I’m home now, okay? I’m fine now.”

Another lie.

She nodded and quickly swiped her fingers under her eyes to brush away the tears. “Of course you are,” she said. “Come on, let’s go eat some pizza. You must be hungry.”

“Starving,” I said. I followed her into the hallway and down the stairs.

We sat together at the kitchen table, making small talk over pepperoni. I forced myself to eat, even though I wasn’t hungry at all.

Was this how it would be from now on? Me lying to them in order to have some semblance of freedom? Kind of ironic that the only way to regain their trust was to tell them the lies they wanted to hear.

If they’d only been willing to listen to the truth...

If I didn’t eat, they’d be worried about me, and I couldn’t bear to watch them exchange any more worried glances today. So I ate what I could stomach of the pizza and pretended to listen to Mom going on and on about the end-of-summer festival she was helping to plan this year.

I nodded when I was expected to nod, asked questions when there was a lull in the conversation, and otherwise zoned out entirely.

“Wait, I have a surprise for you,” Mom said when I got up to clean off my plate.

I’d been planning to park myself on the couch and watch the latest season of Game of Thrones since I hadn’t been allowed to watch any TV at Longview, but I had a feeling Mom wasn’t going to let me veg out in front of the television for the next eight hours like I’d hoped.

“What is it?” I asked.

Her eyes sparkled, and she pulled a rectangular box from her purse that was hanging on the back of her chair. It was wrapped in gold paper with a large gold bow.

“No pressure if you’re not quite ready to dive back into the social scene, but Dr. Millner said it would be good for you to reconnect with your friends before school starts back. Well, open it,” she said.

I took the small box from her and tore open the paper, pretty sure I knew what was inside. The new Samsung phone was sleek and slender and light in my hands when I removed it from the box. I knew Mom was waiting for my reaction, but I honestly couldn’t even decide how I was supposed to feel about the gift.

I hadn’t been allowed to have a phone or access any social media when I was at Longview. It was their policy for all patients, not just me. They felt that social media and unsupervised contact with the outside world hindered recovery and could cause unnecessary stress during treatment.

Really, all it had done was completely isolate me from the rest of the world. None of my friends could text me or message me, and even though there was a designated visitation day every other Saturday, no one ever came to see me except my parents.

“What do you think?” she asked, practically dancing on her tip-toes with anticipation.

I forced a smile that might have looked more like a grimace. “It’s great,” I said. “Thanks.”

She snatched the phone from my hand. “It’s the latest model, and the guy at the store said it was the one all the teenagers had these days. I already charged it up for you and had them transfer all your old contacts and stuff, so it should be ready to go.”

“Oh,” I said, watching as she scrolled through the list of names programmed into the contacts list. “Thanks, Mom, this is great.”

She handed it back to me. “Of course,” she said. “I thought you might want to send a text out to some of your friends and let them know you’re back. Of course, I’m sure by now most of the town has heard about it, the way people talk.”

I held the phone in my hand, just staring at the screen, unsure what I wanted to do with it. I couldn’t even imagine what I would say to any of my friends after all this time.

I’m back from the looney bin. Hailey’s still dead. Wanna hang out?

Somehow, I didn’t think that was quite going to work, but even a simple hello seemed like too much right now.

“Do I still have the same number?” I asked.

“Yep, same one,” she said.

I scrolled through my contacts, just trying to think about who I might reach out to, but when I got to the H’s I stopped and just stared at her name.

Haileybug.

My nickname for her since we were tiny little things.

My heart pounded, and I couldn’t seem to draw a full breath. My palms began to sweat, and I leaned back against the kitchen counter to steady myself.

How many times had we stood right here together, cramming our faces with chips after binge-watching Supernatural and joking about how we were going to find a pair of demon-hunting brothers for ourselves someday and be official sisters?

She’d been right here with me, flesh and blood, more times than I could count. It wasn’t possible that she was gone. And there was more to her death than anyone else understood.

“Marayah, honey, are you feeling okay?” Mom asked. She put a hand to my forehead, but I pulled away.

I couldn’t catch my breath, and I was afraid that if I tried to talk, I’d start crying and I might never stop. Instead, I just shook my head and held a hand up.

I closed my eyes, cutting myself off from the room around me and imagining for a second that I was back in my room at Longview, alone and safe. Back there, I didn’t have to worry about what had happened that night or how my friends were dealing with the tragedy or what was going on in the outside world, because the outside world didn’t seem to exist while I was there.

While I was there, I could pretend it was all just a terrible accident. It all made sense, even if it was horrifying.

But standing here, in the place where she had stood so many times, I knew I couldn’t deny it.

“You’re scaring me,” Mom said, fidgeting beside me. “Do you want me to call Dr. Millner? What should I do? Marayah?”

I shook my head, but I couldn’t force my eyes open. I didn’t want to be here. I didn’t want to think or feel anything. I just wanted to disappear entirely.

I couldn't breathe, and even though I knew I needed to get it together for Mom’s sake, I couldn’t think straight. I was out of control, like a car speeding through the rain.

A memory reached out to me and pulled me under.

My knees gave out, and suddenly everything went dark.

* * *

“Where do you think you’re going?” I asked, stomping off the porch and following Hailey out into the street. I could barely walk in my heels, so I slipped them off and carried them instead.

Thunder rumbled in the distance.

“I’m serious. It’s going to pour down rain any minute,” I said.

Even with the heels off, I still stumbled a bit and had to hold onto the side mirror of someone’s Toyota just to catch myself from falling. I felt strange. Woozy, even though I thought I’d only taken a sip of that punch before I realized it had alcohol in it and threw it away.

How much did it take to make someone feel drunk?

“Hailey, wait,” I shouted.

She was getting into her car—a brand new Hyundai she’d paid for with the money from a modeling campaign she’d done for a chain of athletic stores in the area. She didn’t even so much as look at me as she got inside. Why was she being so weird lately? It was like I hardly recognized her anymore.

The first drops of rain fell across my cheeks, and I looked up, squinting.

Crap. Neither one of us were in any shape to be driving, especially in a storm. And there was definitely a storm coming. I could feel it deep in my bones.

I called her name again and ran toward the car. I reached her just in time, throwing open the passenger door and sliding in just as she peeled out of her parking spot.

She might be acting strange, but I wasn’t about to let her go off on her own.

By the time we reached the end of the street, the rain was coming down in sheets. I could barely see three feet in front of the car, and Hailey hadn’t even bothered to turn on the headlights or the windshield wipers.

“What the hell has gotten into you?” I shouted, so angry I wanted to choke her. “Can you please just pull over for a second so we can talk? You’re going to get us killed.”

But Hailey didn’t answer me. She turned onto the main highway that ran through town, her eyes facing forward and her hands clutching the steering wheel. She was a girl on a mission, and nothing, not even me, could stop her.