“Glad you think so.” Mr. Marin dropped Hanna’s bags by the closet, patted Dot on the head, and turned on his heel toward the door. “Now, c’mon. We’re going to review the new campaign commercials. I’d love your input.”
Hanna followed him back down the stairs. On the third riser from the bottom, she noticed a flicker out the window. It was pitch-black outside, not exactly prime time for a stroll around the neighborhood. Her thoughts flashed back to A’s latest note: Both of them die in Act V. Was that a threat?
Her father led her into the family room, which contained a cognac-colored leather sectional, a matching leather ottoman/coffee table, and a large television against the wall tuned to CNN. Kate sat in the corner of one of the couches, her coltish legs tucked under her. Sitting next to her, his hand entwined in Kate’s, was none other than Sean Ackard.
“Oh,” Hanna said, stopping short.
Sean’s face paled, too. “Hanna. I didn’t know you’d be here.”
Hanna looked at Kate, and Kate gave her a saccharine smile. It was clear she knew Hanna was coming . . . and that she had invited Sean to reemphasize that he was hers now.
“Hey, Sean,” Hanna said coolly, throwing back her shoulders and sitting as far away from the happy couple as she could. What did she care if Kate and Sean were dating? She had an amazing boyfriend now, too, after all.
Not that she could tell anyone about him.
She peeked at Kate again. Her stepsister’s brow was furrowed as though she’d expected more of a reaction. She tilted her body toward Sean and nuzzled her chin into his neck. Sean flinched, looking uncomfortable. Hanna wished she could drop a hint about seeing them at the V Club meeting, but she didn’t dare.
Suddenly, a familiar girl popped on the TV screen, and Hanna almost screamed. It was a photo of Tabitha. “Drinking during spring break: Should we crack down?” the anchor said. Hanna jumped up and pressed a button on the remote, and the TV went blank. Kate gave her a bizarre look.
“I guess someone’s ready to see my commercials,” Mr. Marin joked. He pushed a DVD into the player, and his new campaign commercials popped onto the screen. Hanna sat back on the couch, trying to calm her nerves. Whenever she closed her eyes she saw an imprint of Tabitha’s picture in her mind.
The first commercial was done with quick camera cuts, like an action film. The second one was done in mock-umentary style, like The Office. “I want everyone to give me their honest opinion,” Mr. Marin said. “Do you think young people will respond to these?”
“They’re really fun and creative,” Kate said thoughtfully, leaning forward. “But I’m not sure kids really watch commercials. They usually DVR right through them.”
“You could post them on YouTube, though,” Hanna said shakily, finding her voice.
Mr. Marin looked stressed. “We should keep tweeting though, right? And should we stage more flash mobs? The one last week worked so well.”
“It did, didn’t it, Hanna?” Kate simpered, glancing at Hanna pointedly. Hanna flinched. What did that look mean? Had Kate noticed that Hanna wasn’t there for most of the presentation? Had she seen the guy Hanna had run off with?
“We could try Hollis this time.” Mr. Marin stopped the video. “Or maybe Bryn Mawr? Or we could go into the city, try Temple or Drexel.”
Kate raked her hand through her long chestnut hair. “What does the competition think about the flash mobs?” Yet again, she stared straight at Hanna.
Hanna’s skin prickled. “How should I know?”
Kate shrugged. “I wasn’t asking you specifically.”
Biting her lip, Hanna reviewed the various times she’d been with Liam. Had Kate seen them at the church after all? Did she know?
Hanna stared at her. Kate stared back as if daring Hanna to blink. Sean tugged on his collar, his gaze ping-ponging between the girls. Mr. Marin shifted his weight, one eyebrow raised. “What’s going on, girls?”
“Nothing,” Hanna said quickly.
“Don’t ask me.” Kate threw up her hands. “She’s the one acting weird.”
Suddenly, Hanna felt overwhelmed. She was hiding way too much. “Um, I have to . . .” Hanna jumped up from the couch and ran toward the door. Kate let out a half sniff, half sigh behind her.
She rushed down the hall and paused outside the powder room, noticing a half-unpacked box and something propped on the back of the living room sofa. It was a well-worn stuffed Rottweiler, one of its ears almost missing and a patch of fur on its back worn away. Her father had bought Hanna this stuffed dog after they made up the Cornelius Maximilian dog character, a long-running inside joke between them. Hanna had lost track of the stuffed Cornelius through the years and figured he’d been lost forever. Had her dad really hung on to him this long?