It’s hard to believe that she’s developed some sort of precognition powers from her accident. I don’t believe in those sorts of things. It simply doesn’t make sense.

“I couldn’t see his face,” Eva says. “The killer, I mean. I couldn’t see it when I was in Nate’s death or yours. I can’t see anyone’s faces when I’m in people’s deaths. If I can’t see who it is, how do I stop him?”

My closest friend is staring at me, waiting for some sort of answer, trusting me to know how to help her make sense of something that doesn’t make sense, so I say the only thing I can. “I don’t think that’s your job, stopping him. If there is some homicidal maniac, if you’re really seeing deaths, I don’t know . . . we find a way to tell the police what you know.”

“I can’t see his face. How do I tell them who he is if I can’t see him?”

“If it is real, we’ll figure it out. I’ll start researching anything that could be related. We can take it to the police as evidence.”

“You can’t!”

I raise my hand and continue, “I’ll only research from home—because even though I’m not sure I believe that you’re really having some sort of precognition in seeing deaths, I promise I won’t go to the library alone. I can use the remote log-in at the Jessup library.”

For a moment, Eva is quiet. She folds her arms over her chest. “Maybe, we start to test it. I’ll try with you and Nate, and then once we figure some of it out, we can try on other people.” She shivers so slightly that I could almost think I’m imaging it until she says, “I don’t want to see you die, but someone killed Micki. Someone tried to kill me. I have to do something.”

“So what? We convince people to touch you? That shouldn’t be too hard.” I’m mostly joking, but she’s not.

“Yes!” Eva smiles at me and says, “Just small groups. Piper, Jess, Laurel, and CeCe for starters. I can come up with excuses to have them touch me without being weird.” She pauses and swallows. “I get cold when it happens, like I’m out in freezing weather with no coat, so I can’t do too much. I shake all over.”

“Eva, sweetie, maybe that’s because it’s a seizure or something.” I reach out for her hand, but she jerks away. “Doesn’t it make more sense that it’s medical?”

“I don’t know. That’s why we’re testing it.” She has a resolved look on her face, and I’m not sure there’s a lot of room for discussion. This is one of those cases where Eva will get her way, and the rest of us will cooperate. I don’t think she realizes how spoiled she sometimes is, but if she pitched this idea to everyone at school, they’d line up to obey.

“Fine,” I say. “We’ll try your plan. If it doesn’t prove anything, we’re talking to the doctor. Promise?”

Eva nods, relief apparent in the way her body seems to relax. She grabs my hand and squeezes. “Thank you.”

I squeeze back, and we sit listening to the hum of voices downstairs for a moment. Then I prompt, “What was the other secret you wanted to tell me?”

“Two others, actually.” She blushes faintly and has trouble meeting my eyes. “Mom hired Nate to be my caretaker, and in her mad desire to implement a Be a Better Mother mission she’s going to arrange mother-daughter days for us.”

She’s not going to distract me from the news about Nate by telling me about her mother. That tactic might work on the Piper-ettes, but I’m not one of them. Nate is the only boy to leave her flustered, and I hope he’s finally going to admit that whatever he’s trying to work out in his life would be easier with her by his side. I know the class thing is an issue in Jessup, but it shouldn’t mean they can’t at least date.

I laugh. “Isn’t there some ‘fox guarding the hens’ saying around here that fits this?”

Eva shakes her head. “Nate doesn’t see me that way . . . and did you miss the part about General Yeung and Ms. Southern Decorum teaming up?”

For a moment, we lock eyes, and then I say, “Immovable object, meet unstoppable force.”

“They could take over a small country if they join forces,” Eva says with a hint of awe in her voice. “My mother wants to learn how to be a better mom, and she’s decided that your mom is the one to teach her.”

For the first time I can recall, I’m genuinely impressed with Mrs. Tilling. It’s hard to admit when you’re not doing a great job at something. It’s probably harder still to admit it when the entire town seems to think your family can do no wrong. “Good,” I say. “Maybe it’ll be what you two need. I know you make excuses, but I also know that you’ve wished you had the General for a mom. You confessed it after you killed that bottle of wine at Piper’s party last year.”

Eva blushes, and then promptly flips her veil down as she mutters, “Drunken admissions shouldn’t be used against friends.”

With an eye roll, I reply, “Wrong. If they were used in front of the subject of the admission, that would be different.” I lower my voice and tease, “For example, mentioning you leering at man-slut while he was—”

“Shhh!” Eva’s gaze darts to the closed door, and she whispers, “He could be outside the door for all you know.”

We exchange another look and start laughing. Somehow, everything feels a little ridiculous right now, and I suspect that it’s because everything is all so serious. Micki is dead; Eva was hit by a car. Now, after broken bones, lacerations, and a brain injury, she thinks she can experience other people’s deaths. Focusing on her crush and our mothers’ frightening efficiency is easier.