WHEN I GOT BACK FROM school, I headed right to my bedroom. I braced myself against my bed and stared at Lily’s number glowing on my phone screen. Then I hit the call button.

Lily answered on the second ring.

“Hello?” She sounded relaxed, bouncy—her normal, hair-tossing self.

“Hi, Lily,” I said.

There was a long pause during which I realized she probably had no idea who I was.

“It’s Jess,” I said. “Jess Cutter.” I wasn’t sure why I felt the need to include my last name.

“Oh,” she said. “Hi.” Her voice lost its bounce, becoming guarded.

“How’s Florida?” I asked. “I bet it’s, uh, sunny down there.”

“Yeah, it is.” She paused. “Why are you calling me?”

I led with the easy part, hoping she’d relax again, let her guard down. “I found a sweater of yours,” I said. “I was wondering if you wanted it.”

“A sweater?”

“Yes. It has a hood and blue stripes. You must have left it here.” I looked at it on the bed where I’d laid it out. “It’s…cute,” I added.

“Oh—I know which one you mean,” she said, her voice lightening. “I totally forgot about it. I really like that sweater. I mean, I don’t really need sweaters outside much, but the air-conditioning down here can be brutal.”

“Sure. Did you want me to send it to you?”

“Yeah, that would be great. I’ll give you my address.”

“Sure,” I said. “Give me a minute—I need to find something to write with.”

There was a pen right in front of me, but I wandered around my room, buying myself time.

“I actually wanted to talk to you about something,” I said. “About how you said that Anna was supposed to meet you that night. That the two of you were going to hang out.”

There was a pause on the line. “That’s right,” she said carefully. “She didn’t show up. I already told the police that.”

“Weren’t you worried when she didn’t show up?”

“No.”

“No?”

“Why would I be? This is Birdton we’re talking about—the place where nothing happens, not somewhere she’s going to get jumped in the middle of the street. Besides, it’s not like we hadn’t done it before—”

She stopped abruptly.

“You’d done it before? A lot?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“It’s what you said.” I doubled down. “So who was he? The guy? The one she was going to meet. Her boyfriend?”

I expected another pause, but this time her response came back right away. “She didn’t have a boyfriend.”

I flinched at the hardness in her voice. I hadn’t expected her to lie. Maybe to deflect or avoid the question. Not to lie outright, though. Not to me.

“I don’t want to get anyone in trouble. I just need to know.”

“There was no boyfriend,” she said.

“I know there was a guy. I’m sure of it.”

“Look, I need to go.”

“Why can’t you tell me?”

“Jess…” Then she stopped.

I waited, thinking she might be wavering.

“She was coming to see me,” she said eventually. “We were going to hang out. That’s all.”

I shook my head in frustration. I was done with waiting now, done with being patient.

“Was it Mr. Matthews?”

“Mr. Matthews?” Her voice came out strange, the syllables of his name elongated. Because I was wrong? Because I was right? I couldn’t tell.

“Yes,” I said. “Mr. Matthews. Was she seeing him? Were they…together?”

The line filled with another long pause, like she was weighing whether to say anything. I held my arm tight, making myself stay quiet, willing myself not to rush her.

“Look, I have to go,” she said finally. “I’m sorry about Anna, Jess. I really am. I wish…I wish she was still here.”

Her voice broke, and I believed her. Believed she hadn’t just left Birdton for Florida for the sun, for bragging rights. Believed that she missed Anna, if only a fraction of how much I did.

“Maybe we can talk later—” I tried.

“No,” she said, her voice suddenly firm. “I’m sorry, but don’t call me again. I won’t answer if you do.”

Before I could say anything else, the dial tone sounded in my ear.

She hadn’t even given me her address.