Now what? I asked myself.

  What do I do now?

  The fever had gone down. The heat had evaporated. Slipped away. I began to see clearly again.

  And to think clearly.

  Now what? Now what?

  I can’t hide her in the closet forever.

  What will I tell Angel and Jasmine?

  Why did I do this? What was I thinking?

  Maybe I should tell Darryl what I’ve done, I decided. Maybe he will have an idea of what to do next.

  “No!” I cried out loud. “No!” I tugged the sides of my hair with both hands.

  Darryl will only want to kill her.

  Darryl thinks killing is the solution to all his problems. He has no other ideas.

  And I can’t allow that. I can’t. Eden is my friend, after all. One of my best friends.

  So I can’t tell Darryl. And I can’t tell Angel and Jasmine.

  So what can I do?

  I shut my eyes, struggling to think clearly.

  A sound across the room made me open them.

  “Huh?” I stared at the figure in the open doorway.

  Melanie.

  Melanie staring across the room at me, her mouth open, her eyes wide.

  How long had she been there? How much had she seen?

  chapter 23

  “The—the door was open,” Melanie stammered.

  “Oh.” I stood up straight, pulling down my nightshirt. I could feel my face growing hot, and I knew I was blushing.

  Had she seen me drag Eden into the closet? Had she?

  I brushed my hair back from my forehead. It was matted down with sweat. “Hot in here,” I muttered.

  Melanie narrowed her eye» at me. “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “It’s just so … hot,” I replied. “I don’t know. Maybe I have a temperature or something.”

  I turned my gaze to the closet door. Had I closed it all the way?

  How long had Melanie been standing there? Would I have to drag her into the closet too?

  Crazy question. But I still wasn’t thinking clearly. I still hadn’t caught my balance.

  “What do you want?” I blurted out. It sounded more hostile than I’d planned. “I mean … it’s kind of a busy morning,” I added. “I… overslept and—”

  “I just wanted to remind you about the dorm meeting tonight,” Melanie replied, still eyeing me suspiciously. “We’re going to try to get some answers about campus safety.”

  “Good,” I muttered.

  Melanie shook her head. “Two murders. Two kids killed so viciously,” she said with emotion. “It’s so awful. Can you imagine what their parents must be going through?”

  “No,” I replied in a whisper, lowering my eyes. “I can’t imagine.”

  “I—I’m scared to walk across The Triangle at night,” Melanie confessed. She shuddered. Her dark bangs shuddered with her.

  She wore a navy-blue wool sweater pulled down over black leggings. She looked as perfect as ever.

  I brushed my hair back with my hands again. I knew I looked as if a hurricane had blown over me.

  “Anyway, we hope to get some answers tonight,” she said. “The dean promised to come. And someone from the local police. And the director of campus security.”

  “That’s good,” I repeated awkwardly.

  “It’s at seven tonight, Downstairs in the lobby,” she told me.

  “Okay. I’ll be there,” I replied. “I—I hope they catch the guy soon. We’re all total wrecks here.”

  Again, she narrowed her eyes at me. “Are you sure you’re okay, Hope?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. Sure. Just fine. I just have to get cleaned up,” I told her. “I’m off to a late start.”

  I pulled open the room door and held it for her, hoping she’d take the hint.

  “Okay. See you later,” she said. She forced a smile and made her way out.

  Melanie is very suspicious, I realized as I closed the door behind her. She kept studying me, watching my every move.

  What has she heard? What has she seen?

  Maybe she saw Darryl sneaking in and out of my room, I decided. Maybe she thinks I’m hiding him now.

  Darryl. I’ve got to talk to him. If Melanie suspects …

  Darryl has to go away for a while, I decided.

  It will break my heart. But he has to leave the campus. Get far away. Hide somewhere safe until this all blows over.

  Yes. I suddenly started to feel better.

  I realized that I’d finally had a good idea. The right idea.

  Darryl had to go away.

  But will he agree? I wondered. What will he say when I tell him?

  Will he rant and roar and get furious as usual? Will he try to argue with me? Will he tell me that he’ll never leave me—never?

  Or will he realize that this is the best plan? Will he see that I’m only thinking of his safety? Only thinking of our future?

  Outside the window, clouds rolled away from the sun. Orange morning sunlight washed into the room.

  I moved to the window and felt the warmth of the sunlight on my face. Squinting down at the campus below, I saw dark-uniformed figures scurrying around.

  Police officers!

  What’s going on? I wondered.

  I peered through the glare on the glass. And saw three officers surrounding a guy with dark hair.

  Darryl?

  Yes. Darryl.

  “Oh no!” I cried, pressing my hands against the glass.

  What are they doing to him?

  I pressed my face against the glass and squinted into the sun. One officer grabbed Darryl’s shoulder. The other two moved on either side.

  Are they arresting him? I wondered.

  Do they know? Do they know he’s the one?

  I have to get out there, I decided. I have to try to help Darryl.

  Maybe I can give him an alibi. Maybe I can persuade the cops that Darryl was with me when the murders occurred.

  I have to try, I told myself.

  I can’t just stand here watching. Watching them take Darryl away.

  My heart pounding, I crossed the room. Pulled open the door. Started into the hall—before I realized I was still in my nightshirt.

  Down the hall, two girls looked up.

  I spun around and darted back into the room.

  “Got to get dressed. Got to hurry,” I told myself.

  I had to get outside before the police dragged Darryl away.

  I ran to the closet to get some clothes. I grabbed the handle, started to turn it—and remembered Eden.

  Eden. My prisoner.

  My friend. My prisoner.

  A sick cry escaped my throat.

  How could I have done that to her? Was I out of my head? Was I totally nuts?

  I’ll let her out, I decided. I’ll explain to her. I’ll apologize and beg her to forgive me.

  Eden will understand. Maybe …

  I took a deep breath and pulled open the closet door. “Eden—?”

  She was gone.

  chapter 24

  I stared down at the closet floor. At a crumpled pair of jeans on the floor. And a pair of black sneakers on their sides.

  “Eden—?”

  The closet darkened in front of me, as if a black cloud were sweeping over it. I felt myself pulled, pulled into the gaping darkness.

  As if the closet were opening wide, revealing a black hole at its back. Opening wide and swallowing me whole. Sucking me into endless darkness.

  “Eden—?”

  Where was she? Where?

  I heard a soft groan. Behind me.

  “Huh?”

  I spun around. Blinked twice. Three times.

  Eden rolled over in her bed. She raised her head off the pillow and opened one eye. “What time is it?” she asked sleepily. “Is it late?”

  I was too stunned to answer. I grabbed the sides of the closet with both hands. My mouth dropped open.

  Eden opened her other eye. “Hope—are y
ou okay?”

  “N-no,” I choked out.

  I felt the closet pulling me inside. Swallowing me. Swallowing me whole. Felt the blackness sweep over me. So cold …

  “No!” I repeated.

  I pushed myself away from the closet. Stumbled out into the light.

  I staggered halfway across the room, unable to breathe. Unable to think.

  “Eden?”

  She squinted up from her bed, still half asleep. “What’s happening, Hope?” she asked.

  “You’re not in the closet,” I murmured.

  Her expression changed to confusion. She pulled herself up to a sitting position. “Excuse me?”

  I dropped down beside her on the bed. I felt so happy and so frightened at the same time.

  Happy that Eden was okay. Happy that she wasn’t tied up in the closet.

  Frightened about myself, about my mind.

  Am I going crazy? Am I totally losing it?

  I knew I hadn’t dreamed that I hit Eden over the head and tied her up. It was no dream. I’d been wide awake.

  So had I imagined it all?

  How could I imagine something so vividly? I wondered. How could something I imagined seem so real?

  I shut my eyes tight and buried my head in my hands.

  I didn’t want to think about this. I wanted everything to disappear.

  I wanted to wake up and have everything nice again.

  “Oh!” I jumped up, suddenly remembering Darryl. Darryl surrounded by three policemen.

  I had to get dressed. I had to get outside and help him.

  Darryl. Poor Darryl.

  “Hope—what’s wrong?” Eden demanded. “What is it?”

  I didn’t answer her. My head spun. My legs felt rubbery and weak. But I ran to the window and peered down at the campus.

  And saw Darryl. By himself now.

  No cops. The officers had left.

  And Darryl stood alone. Staring up at me. Staring up at my window.

  With the most terrifying look of pure hatred on his face.

  Jasmine

  chapter 25

  I jogged across Pine Street and crossed without looking, ignoring the red light. A car honked, but I didn’t stop to see what the problem was.

  The neon sign in the front of the Campus Corner came into view in the middle of the next block. I ducked my head into the swirling, cold wind and began to run full speed.

  I was late for work. And I knew Marty would be in my face the moment I stepped through the glass door.

  “Jasmine—where have you been?”

  “Jasmine—you know you’re the only waitress on duty after four. How can you stand me up like this?”

  “Jasmine—didn’t anyone teach you about responsibility?”

  I’ve heard it all before. I’ve heard him shout and curse and threaten to fire me.

  I try to get to work on time. And I try to be the best waitress I can be, even though it’s boring, lonely work.

  But sometimes the time goes by and I don’t realize it. Sometimes I get involved in something more important and don’t want to admit that I have no choice. That I have to keep this job if I want to stay at Ivy State.

  Anyway, I burst breathlessly into the restaurant. And started to pull back my long blond hair. Marty makes all of us wear hair nets, which I really hate. He doesn’t wear one—and he’s the cook!

  I tugged off my parka and tossed it over a coat hook. And started to the kitchen behind the lunch counter to get my apron.

  Mrs. Jacklin, my daily customer, was lowering herself into her usual table. I glanced at the coffeepot to make sure there was coffee. Mrs. Jacklin, I knew, would be lingering over her cup of coffee for at least an hour.

  My eyes swept the restaurant. A couple of guys from the college sat at a back booth with slices of pie and Cokes. No one else.

  Marty was sitting on a wooden stool near the sink, reading a magazine. He raised his eyes when I came in, and his expression turned sour.

  “Jasmine, I have to talk to you,” he said quietly. His cheeks turned red. He rolled up the magazine between his hands and slapped his lap with it.

  “Sorry I’m late,” I murmured, reaching for my apron.

  “I really need a waitress here at four,” Marty said. He glanced at the clock above the sink. Four-twenty.

  “That clock is fast,” I said, avoiding his eyes.

  “I’m very disappointed in you,” he said, tossing the rolled-up magazine onto the counter.

  “Sorry,” I muttered. What else could I say?

  “I know you’re a bright girl,” Marty continued, frowning at me. “Sure, you’re quiet. Not much personality …”

  You don’t have to insult me because I’m a few minutes late! I thought angrily. But I let it pass.

  “But I expected you to be more responsible,” he continued.

  How long is he going to scold me? I wondered. I already said I was sorry.

  “I—I have to get Mrs. Jacklin her coffee,” I stammered.

  Marty shook his head. “No, you don’t. I’ll get it. You stay here.”

  He slid off the stool. Disappeared into the front for a few seconds. I heard the clink of coffee cups. Heard him say something to Mrs. Jacklin.

  When he returned to the kitchen, his cheeks reddened again. He shut the kitchen door.

  Uh-oh, I thought. This looks like bad news.

  “I’m afraid I have to let you go,” he said. “I’m really sorry, Jasmine.”

  “Oh, wait. Please—” I started. I really didn’t want to lose this job. “I won’t be late again, Mr. Dell. I promise.”

  I sounded like a five-year-old. But I didn’t care.

  Marty shook his head. “Being late is one thing, Jasmine,” he replied quietly. “But where were you yesterday?”

  “Excuse me?” My mouth dropped open.

  “You didn’t show up at all yesterday,” he said, sighing. He picked up the magazine and rolled it tensely between his hands. “I had to run the place myself. And we were really busy.”

  “Yesterday?” I repeated. I suddenly felt sick. My legs felt weak. My throat tightened.

  “Yes. Where were you?” he demanded.

  I stared at him. “Uh …” I thought hard. Where was I yesterday afternoon? Where?

  “I don’t remember,” I told him.

  His face twisted in disgust. “You don’t even have an excuse? That’s the best you can do? You don’t remember? Why don’t you tell me you were sick? Or that you had to take a test? Give me a good excuse, Jasmine.”

  I shook my head. I felt dizzy. “But … really,” I insisted. “I really don’t remember where I was yesterday afternoon.” I swallowed hard. “In fact, I don’t remember anything about yesterday,” I gasped. “Nothing at all.”

  Marty sighed. He took the apron from my hands. “Here. I’ve written you a check for what I owe you.”

  I took the check from him without looking at it. The kitchen blurred. I was concentrating … concentrating on yesterday.

  Where was I? Where?

  I had to get out of that kitchen. I had to go somewhere and think.

  “Good-bye, Jasmine,” Marty said, slapping the magazine nervously against his leg. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out. I really am.”

  I mumbled something to him. I didn’t even hear myself.

  Then I floated back out to the restaurant to get my parka. Mrs. Jacklin offered a greeting as I passed her table. But I didn’t reply.

  I pulled the parka off the hook and stepped outside without putting it on.

  “Where was I yesterday?” I asked myself out loud.

  Why can’t I remember?

  What’s wrong with me?

  chapter 26

  In a frightened daze, I wandered across the campus. Past dark-uniformed police officers and groups of students huddled together, talking excitedly.

  I found a table at the… back of the cafeteria in the Student Union, and sat down with a cup of coffee and a sweet roll. Sat down to t
hink. To remember.

  Start somewhere, I instructed myself. Just try to remember something.

  I took a long sip of coffee. Strong and bitter. Just what I needed to wake up my brain.

  I remembered Hope being upset about something. Yes. I was asleep, my covers pulled up to my head. And Hope was upset because something terrible had happened.

  Again.

  Keep thinking, I ordered myself. It’s coming back to you.

  But before I could remember more, someone plopped down across from me at my table. I saw a dark, plaid shirt. Straight dark hair, unbrushed and wild. Pale blue eyes. Eyes that stared coldly and didn’t blink.

  “Darryl—!”

  I scraped my chair back. Started to get up.

  He tugged my arm. “Don’t get tense, Jasmine. I just Want to sit down a minute. I just want to talk.”

  I pulled my arm free and dropped back into my chair. I didn’t want to sit with Darryl. He frightened me. Those cold eyes frightened me.

  I never understood how Hope could be so devoted to him. I thought of him as a time bomb. He always seemed ready to explode.

  And when he did, someone always got hurt.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, gripping my coffee cup with both hands. “What’s going on? There are cops all over the campus.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Tell me about it,” he muttered. He pulled up the collar of his flannel shirt, as if he were cold.

  I sipped the coffee. I hoped he didn’t see my hand tremble as I lifted the cup.

  He really frightened me.

  “Three cops stopped me,” he continued, shaking his head. “I was on my way to see Hope, and they stopped me. And questioned me. About that guy who got murdered. You know. At the driving range.”

  I didn’t know about it. Did it happen yesterday? I wondered. Did it happen during the time I can’t remember?

  I glanced over Darryl’s shoulder and saw Margie a few tables down. She was with a bunch of girls I didn’t recognize. For some reason, she was staring hard at me.

  When I stared back, she turned away.

  What’s her problem? I wondered.

  “Hope wants me to leave.” Darryl’s voice broke into my thoughts.

  I turned back to him. “Excuse me?”

  “Hope wants me to leave,” he repeated impatiently. “She wants me to go hide for a while.”