“Luca …” he pleaded, as if the rug had been pulled from underneath his feet and he had fallen hard on the ground beneath it.

Luca didn’t turn his head, and when he spoke again his voice was rough with anger. “Get. Away. From. Her. Now.”

I grabbed on to Nic’s arm. I didn’t know where he was going, but I knew I didn’t want it to be without me.

“Now!” Luca bared his pointed teeth like a wolf.

There was a moment of nothingness, when my heart crumpled, and then Nic pulled his arm from me, ripped himself out of our bubble, and jumped into the passenger seat, slamming the door behind him.

I leapt forward and gripped the open window as the engine roared to life beneath me. It was then that I saw there was blood all over Luca’s shirt.

“What happened?” I gasped, my stomach filling with dread. If that were his own blood, Luca would have been in the hospital. But he wasn’t. He was sitting across from me, seething and unscathed. Several disappearances and two strange deaths in the last two weeks — Mrs. Bailey’s words rang in my ears. “Where did all that blood come from?”

Luca didn’t respond, and Nic spoke instead. “Get back from the car, Sophie.”

“Is this about my dad?”

Luca and Nic exchanged a loaded glance, and suddenly I felt like a pariah all over again.

“I want to know what he said!” I shouted at Nic. “Tell me!”

It was Luca who finally responded. Turning his head slowly, he stared at me until his icy blue eyes dominated my worldview. “Gracewell,” he hissed, “get off my car, or I will remove you from it myself.”

Nic cursed under his breath, but still he wouldn’t look at me. Luca, on the other hand, held his hostile gaze until, shattering under the weight of it, I took my hands off the car and stumbled back.

The engine revved twice, and then the Priestly brothers sped off into the night without another glance in my direction. I was left standing alone in the middle of a deserted street as a string of questions exploded inside my brain.

“It is only in love and murder that we still remain sincere.”

FRIEDRICH DÜRRENMATT, Incident at Twilight

I stood on the street corner, my hands wrapped tightly around Nic’s neck as we clung to each other. We watched the pavement crack beneath our feet. The sound of rushing water roared against my eardrums as a chasm split the ground, giving way to flames that climbed out, licking the sky, and then suddenly Nic was gone and I was sinking. I screamed, but my voice caught in my throat. As air turned to sand that filled my lungs, my whole world turned black, like someone had reached into my head and flicked a switch.

And then there was nothing but my heart pummeling against my chest and the smell of Philadelphia cream cheese. Guided by a distant hum, I hurtled back into reality.

“Sophie …”

The sunlight was bouncing off my eyelids.

“Earth to Sophie …”

I squinted and waited for the ceiling to shift into focus.

“Guess what day it is?”

I cleared the cobwebs from my throat in groggy squeaks and tried to blink away the memory of my dream — this was the second time I’d had it in as many nights. I propped myself onto my elbows.

“Good morning, Birthday Girl!”

My mother was perched on the end of my bed. There were small crinkles at the sides of her eyes, and her mouth was curved upward in a grin that could have put the Cheshire Cat’s to shame. I was glad to see her smile like that, even if she was just doing it for the sake of the day. I had missed the way it made her eyes sparkle.

In her lap she held a red velvet cupcake, lavished with cream cheese frosting.

“Good morning,” I croaked.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

She fished a Zippo lighter from her cardigan, flicked it open, and lit the candle. “Make a wish!” she said, shoving the cupcake so close to my face I could see tiny wisps of smoke rise above the flame.

I hesitated as it danced across my eyeline, taunting me. Clarity, I decided at last. I just want clarity. I blew purposefully across the flame, extinguishing it in one tiny puff of air.

My mother produced a silver knife from her other pocket. She sliced the cupcake straight down the middle and the two halves fell apart from each other, toppling under the weight of the frosting. She scooped up one half and handed it to me.

“Delicious!” I said, taking a bite. “Thanks.”

Setting her half on her lap, my mother reached behind her and fished out a present wrapped in glitzy purple paper. “I made you something.”

I smiled as I wiped the residual cupcake grease from my fingers onto my duvet. I already suspected it was the dress she had been working on in secret. Carefully, I unstuck the tape around the edges and peeled away the paper so that the garment slipped out, perfectly folded, onto the bed. I unfurled it. It was structured but delicate, made from light gold silk that fell in soft waves, and adorned with sequins that glinted in the morning sunlight. I brushed my fingers along the thin straps and felt the dress curve in around the waist as I held it up. “It’s incredible!”

“And it matches your hair!” My mother smiled. “I thought you could wear it to the party at Millie’s later?”

“Great idea.” I felt a pinch of guilt knowing my mother was unaware of Millie’s parents’ absence. Still, what she didn’t know couldn’t hurt her, right?

She clapped her hands together. “Lunch later?” she asked, bouncing up from my bed. “I want to treat my seventeen-year-old daughter at the Eatery.”