But Jenny’s unconcerned. She pushes the box toward me. “Open it.”
I hesitate, then sit down on the other side of the mattress and pick it up. There’s no return address. I pull the bow off and pop the lid open: inside, cushioned against royal blue velvet, are dozens and dozens of pill bottles. I pick one up and read the label: pancrelipase. I put it down and pick up another: ciprofloxacin. Another: acetylcysteine.
“Are those your medications?” Jenny asks.
I nod mutely.
“Holy shit,” she says. “This has to be, like, a month’s worth at least.”
Thousands of dollars’ worth of meds.
My meds.
Only my name isn’t on the label.
I open the bottle of pancrelipase and shake out some of the yellow capsules. I bring one close to my face to examine it, and sure enough, it’s stamped with the identification code MT 4 with MCNEIL underneath it, just like the pills in the bathroom medicine cabinet.
Someone knows the exact medications I need.
Before I can stop her, Jenny reaches into the box and pulls out a small square of paper. “?‘Stay in the game’? Oh my God, is it about where you were? I knew you were lying.”
I snatch the note from her, scanning the words and the rose insignia below it. The Society. Somehow they know I completed the dare. I recall the flash of movement I spotted before I jumped and barely repress a shiver.
“This box—it was just sitting here?” I ask, sweat breaking out on my brow.
“Yep.”
“Was anyone else here tonight? Ethan? Anyone?”
“No. Why?”
They were here. Tonight. Inside my house. Inside my room. Standing right here in front of the bed, setting this package on the worn comforter I’ve been using since I was five.
I realize my leg is hanging over the bed and whip it onto the mattress.
“Get up,” I order Jenny.
“What?”
“Get up on the bed,” I hiss, hitting her thigh.
She rolls her eyes as she swings her foot onto the mattress. I draw my legs under me, then jump far away from the bed, eyeing the big gap under the frame where a person could hide without anyone seeing. I hesitate, then get on my hands and knees and peer underneath. Nothing.
“What are you doing?” Jenny asks.
I ignore her and turn to the closet, pulling the door open and leaping back. Hangers tinkle quietly from the sudden gust, but the closet’s empty too.
“Okay, you’re starting to scare me,” Jenny says.
I spin on her. “Someone was in my room, Jenny. When did you come in here? Ten minutes ago? Fifteen?”
I watch the full weight of what I’m saying settle over her as she thinks. “Maybe twenty minutes. I woke up, like, half an hour ago, when Mom got up to pee. I couldn’t go back to sleep, so I came to see if you were awake, and it was just sitting here.”
I close my eyes and blow out a harsh breath. Mom is okay. They’re both okay.
“Seriously, what is going on?” Jenny asks. “Where were you? And don’t lie this time, or I’ll tell Mom you snuck out and stole her car.”
My eyes pop open. “You wouldn’t.”
She juts her chin.
“Jenny, she’d ground me for life.”
“Well, then you better start talking.”
I grit my teeth.
She must sense I’m about to spill, because she drops the Godfather act and scoots toward me, taking my hands in hers. “You can tell me anything. I promise I’ll keep it a secret. I won’t tell anyone, not even Mom.”
“Not even Mom? Gee, that’s real comforting.”
She squeezes my hands, her big blue eyes alight with barely contained excitement at the possibility of a juicy secret.
Tell anyone about the game, and you will be punished, the note at the warehouse had said. But it also said I’d be punished if I didn’t play, and I won’t be playing long if Mom finds out. If Jenny knew, she’d probably help me sneak out or at the very least cover for me.
She squeals as I dig for my phone, find the invitation, and hand it over to her.
Her eyes skim the screen, and she looks up sharply. “What is this? You didn’t actually go to this place, did you?”
“It was this abandoned warehouse,” I whisper.
“What? And you went in?” She couldn’t be more shocked if I’d announced my plans to sell all my worldly belongings and join a group of drifters.
I nod, and I swear, I actually see her respect for me triple. I don’t tell her about the part where I fell off a fence and was carried inside like a corpse.
“Tell me everything,” Jenny says.
So I do: all about the girls and the dare and taking Nikki to the hospital. The whole time her mouth hangs open and she keeps making these weird noises at the back of her throat, as if she can hardly believe what I’m saying.
“You’re making this up,” she says when I get to the part about dropping everyone off and sneaking back into our place.