I shake my head. I don’t even know how to speak right now. I want to believe that everything’s okay. It’s not.

I realize belatedly that everyone in the room is watching us, and I don’t know what to say. Piper is going to be a victim. Judge—whoever he is—is going to kill her.

“You should sit back down,” Nate orders. “Chair or sofa?”

“Sofa.” I glance at Piper and answer the question she’d ask if we were alone. “I’m not sleeping with him. We are friends though.”

I hear several other muffled gasps and laughs throughout the room. Nate turns around and looks at me like I’ve just lost my ever-loving mind—and I may very well have lost it. I don’t know what to do. How do I save Piper? She grins at me and walks away.

“Don’t leave, okay?” I call out to her. I don’t know what to do yet, but I can’t let her go home . . . which is absurd. What am I to do? I can’t insist she never go home. I muffle a cry of frustration against Nate’s shoulder.

“Come on,” he urges.

I want to tell him, tell Piper, but she’s walked away. Quietly, I ask, “Keep an eye on her for me?”

He freezes, lips open on a question he can’t ask in front of everyone.

I nod.

“Okay,” he says. I know then that he believes in my visions completely. He just agreed to watch Piper—a girl he can’t stand—because of my vision.

I turn my back to him and make my way to the sofa. When I reach it, CeCe is there ready to help me sit. I smile and say, “Thanks.”

“You have some brass balls on you,” she says in a low voice. “I thought you left those back in middle school.”

“I found them again,” I say.

“I see that. The way you’re acting is all but admitting there’s something going on with Nate. No one has had the nerve to do that.”

CeCe reaches out for my crutches.

I tense. This is what I need: to see their deaths and look for clues. I still tense as I wait for her hand to brush mine. After my vision of Piper, I’m not ready to do this, but I need to try. I don’t release my crutches until CeCe touches me. Her knuckles graze my hands—and nothing happens.

“Eva?” CeCe prompts.

“Sorry.” I release my crutches and balance on my one foot. “I guess I’m a little out of it today.”

“We all are.”

Why didn’t it work? I stare at her and resolve to try again.

She sets my crutches to the side and reaches out one arm so I can use it to steady myself. I wait until her arm bumps my hand.

Again, nothing happens.

I want to understand why it didn’t work, but I don’t know how to figure that out. It’s not the most pressing issue either. I need to figure out how to keep Piper safe and, hopefully, be sure none of my other friends here are victims-to-be.

I’m quiet as CeCe helps me to settle on the sofa. Holding on to her arm is almost like holding Robert’s or Nate’s. I feel corded muscles under her skin, and I’m astounded at how strong she is. Grace is strong, but her biggest strengths are in her legs—which I’m sure help her plenty but wouldn’t be very useful in the same ways. CeCe clearly works out differently. If the killer attacked her, maybe she’d be able to fight. Is that a factor? Is he only picking people he can overpower?

“You’re strong,” I say stupidly.

“Swim team, tennis, and weight training.” Her expression grows serious then and she adds, “Once you’re healed, I’d be happy to help you with your PT.”

“My . . . ?”

“Your physical therapy.” She motions to the leg that I have stretched out on the sofa. “I figure Grace will help with it, but if you need another person, I’m here. It’s one of the careers I’m considering.”

“Thanks. That would be great, actually.” I’m oddly relieved that she was thinking in terms of my recovery, not in terms of the killer out there.

The sudden peal of the doorbell startles me, but before I can get back to my feet, I hear Grace call out, “It’s Grayson and them.”

A few moments later, the familiar sounds of Robert’s closest friends comfort me. This is normal. This is my real life. Even when I hear Robert’s voice, I stay mostly calm. I know the detective questioned him, but I can’t believe for even a moment that he’s capable of the kind of violence that the killer has used already—and will use against Nate and Piper if we don’t stop him.

I listen as they talk softly. I can’t tell what they’re discussing at first, but then I hear the words “fireball” and “better if the speakers were moved.” I’m glad they came. Even with everything going on, they sound normal.

But when my eyes meet Robert’s for a moment, I realize that he’s simply pretending that everything’s normal. He looks terrible. I’m not surprised though. It can’t easy to deal with visits from the police, Amy’s death, my accident, and his secrets coming to light in such a terrible way.

I offer him a small smile.

“Yeung said you were tired.” Reid’s voice pulls my attention to him as he flops in the chair across from me. “I’m sorry you were hurt.”

Maybe guys just have a different way of seeing things. Someone attempted to kill me, broke my leg, damaged my brain, and scarred my face. Reid stares at me like it’s okay to gawk.