I feel my face flush, expecting to see pictures of the school speared through with a five-centuries-old tree or, worse, more bad news about Matt. Instead, a woman’s portrait stares up at me with too-far-apart eyes framed by a brassy pixie cut. “Dr. Langdon?”
“Her house burned down,” Coco squeals, yanking her phone back. “She left the oven on.”
“Is she okay?” I ask, swallowing a lump in my throat.
“She’s alive, but barely. Apparently she woke up in the middle of the night and she didn’t even smell the fire, but something was telling her to check the stove, and when she went into the kitchen the flames were all the way up to the ceiling. They got her and her cat out through an upstairs window! She’s covered in second-and third-degree burns.”
“But she’s going to make it,” I say. “Right?”
Coco shrugs without taking her eyes off the screen. “I can’t believe your counselor’s house burned down the same week your boyfriend got into a—” She drops off abruptly and claps a hand over her mouth. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.”
“It’s okay,” I lie. And Matt’s not my boyfriend, I add silently because it feels too cruel to say aloud.
“It’s so crazy,” Coco repeats, typing rapidly on her phone. Her crystalline eyes flutter up to me. “Why does it seem like you don’t think this is that crazy?”
“I do.”
“No you don’t,” Coco says, shaking her red-gold waves. She looks back at the hallway then lowers her voice. “Did you burn her house down or something?”
“Coco,” I say sharply. “I didn’t burn her house down. It’s nothing like that, okay?”
“Then what?”
I sigh and close the bedroom door. Mom would hate it if she knew I told Coco this stuff. She’d hate it, and she wouldn’t even admit that to me, because she’d be too worried about making me uncomfortable or ashamed. She’s like a silverware divider with a conscience, trying to keep us all separate and safe without making the forks feel bad about not being spoons or the spoons feel worried that the forks shouldn’t be so poky. “Grandmother told me,” I admit, and Coco’s eyes go even wider.
“Told you . . . what, exactly?”
“She told me Dr. Langdon’s house was going to burn down.”
“No way.”
I nod.
“And you’re sure you didn’t do it?” she says.
“What the hell, Coco!”
She holds up her hands. “I don’t know—maybe you sleepwalk or something!”
“I didn’t do it.”
She raises one eyebrow and digs her hand into her hip. “Do you have an alibi?” She looks down at Gus and ruffles his ears. “Did you see Nat leave, Gus?”
“Actually, I was out with someone last night.”
Coco claps her hands together and plops down on my bed. “Who? Derek Dillhorn?”
“Ew, no,” I say. “He’s not from Union.”
“Has Megan met him? Did Matt know?”
“Sort of, and yes.” The guilt is crushing me now, squeezing every ounce of breath from my body. “We fought that night. He saw me with Beau, and he left. I tried to get him to stay. I knew he shouldn’t be driving. I tried.”
Coco chews on her bottom lip and picks at my quilt. Then she reaches over and grabs my hand. “You know that wasn’t your fault.”
“I don’t.”
“Well, I do.”
“It feels like you’re wrong.”
Coco rolls her eyes. “You’re just like Mom and Dad. All the feelings in this house could sink the Titanic.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Coco. Nothing could sink the Titanic.”
My car’s in the shop until tonight, so Beau gets someone to cover his shift and takes me to my appointment with Alice.
“I can’t keep losing shifts,” Beau says on the drive over. “Now that I’m done with school, Mason needs me to get half of the rent.”
“It’s the last time.” Alice will be furious when she finds out Beau’s not joining us for our last two weeks of sessions, but I can’t keep asking for every spare moment of his time.
Dr. Wolfgang is in the office again today, smoking a cigarette out the window behind Alice’s desk while she listens to the recordings I gave her on Tuesday. She beckons us in, but when Beau follows me, she holds up a hand, stops the recording, and pulls out her earbuds. “Not for the hypnotherapy, Beau,” she says. “You wait out in the lobby.”
I look at him apologetically, then he nods and leaves.
“Sit, sit,” Alice says impatiently.
An hour later, I emerge from hypnosis as though waking from a nap. I see Dr. Wolfgang looking unimpressed as usual, but Alice is smiling and nodding to herself.
“Get something?” I ask her.
“Dance,” she says. “You started dancing when you were tiny, and you quit right before Grandmother disappeared, and you didn’t think to mention this?”
“Should I have?” I say. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
She rolls her eyes and opens the door sharply. “Thank you, Dr. Wolfgang. Would you send Beau back in on your way out?”
Dr. Wolfgang and Alice have a quick exchange in German. When he leaves the room, she rolls her eyes again. “Miserable old man.”