I think about the nights Robert and I talked about feeling trapped by our families, confused by sorting out what we want from what we know we’re expected to do, and how stifling life in Jessup can feel. I can’t say I’m surprised that Reid feels the same way. I’m only surprised that he’s admitting it. We’re friends, but not of the let-me-confess-my-fears-and-doubts sort.

As much as I suddenly want to just talk to Reid, I need to finish what I set out to do. I failed with Jamie. I won’t fail here too. I dangle my foot over the edge of the sofa in the hopes that Reid will brush up against it. Instead, he slides farther away. I can’t think of any other way to subtly get him to touch me. That’s when I realize that I’m being foolish: of all the people in the room, he’s the one least likely to look at me oddly for anything I do or say.

I reach down, extending my hand toward him, and say, “Put your hand on my pulse for a few seconds.”

He stares at me for an extra moment, but then he sits up and does as I asked.

A girl is screaming; another girl is yelling, “Stop it!”

I can’t believe that this is happening to me. I did everything right.

I hear a car coming toward us. The road is dirt and gravel, and I hear the wheels crunch over it.

Someone is hitting me, trying to hurt me. I turn to try to look at her though. I’d die to protect her, to keep her safe. I step backward, but before I can turn to see her, I feel a sharp burning pain in my chest. There’s a moment between the feeling and the realization, but I know then: it’s a bullet. I’ve been shot.

I fall to the ground. I want to go to her, tell her that I love her, but I can’t move.

I gasp as I return to the now. Reid is on the floor, his hand on my wrist. “It’s fast,” he says, and I realize that he’s talking about my pulse. “Are you feeling sick . . . or something?”

I shiver. “No.”

He’s watching me intently, but all I can do is offer him a weak smile and an even weaker explanation. “There’s just so much going on lately, you know?”

“You’re safe now, Eva,” Reid says. He’s still holding my wrist and staring at me. “I don’t think you have anything to fear.”

I pull away. “I’m sorry. It’s just . . .” My words fade as I try to figure out what to say. Sorry I just saw you become another victim? I swallow as I stare at him. How do I save him? There has to be something I can do. I think about the details of the vision, but I don’t have any immediate solutions.

“It’s fine.” He folds his hands together under his head. “You never need to tell me you’re sorry. For anything. I like that you don’t act like them all the time. I like that we can be honest, instead of pretending all the time.”

I’m so not honest right now. I don’t know what to do or say. Why Reid? Why would the killer shoot Reid? Who was he trying to reach? I know it’s not Piper. Who does Reid love so much that he got killed trying to save her? I’m terribly awkward as I blurt, “Do you like Madison?”

He stares up at me in apparent shock.

“I saw you watching her.”

Reid nods, but says nothing.

“You deserve to be happy. We all do,” I say. “If she’ll make you happy, do something about it.”

“Really? I don’t know if I should. It’s hard to know sometimes.”

“You can always talk to me if you need.” I smile at him. “I’m here for you, you know? I think . . . I think maybe we should spend more time together. Maybe you could visit me more.”

If I can keep him close, I reason, maybe I can keep him safer. He can’t leave town like Piper is, so I need another answer.

I’m not sure I’ve seen him so excited. “Really? You mean that?”

“Sure,” I say, more confidently now. I don’t want him to get the wrong idea, though, so I add, “Maybe we can talk about Madison too. I saw you watching her, and I want you to be happy, you know?”

“Madison? You think so?”

“Definitely! Just be yourself, Reid. Talk to her like she was me.” I pause, feeling a little awkward, knowing it’s going to sound insane no matter how I say it, but I flash back to him standing outside, trying to reach the girl he loves, and getting shot. Quickly, I add, “But inside. Talk to her inside.”

“Okay.” He reaches up and touches my calf. “Thank you.”

I think about the killer, the recently dead, and I murmur, “I hope it helps.”

I’m still trying to figure out if there’s anything else I can say or do to keep Reid safe when Grace comes over and says, “Madison and Bailey left. They said to tell you good-bye.”

“Yeung,” Reid greets Grace.

She ignores him, instead looking back at me and adding, “I think everyone’s going to head out. Nate says you need a nap.”

“He wha—”

“And I agreed,” Grace continues as if I hadn’t interrupted her. “So I’m going to get a ride home. I texted the General, and she said it’s okay as long as I’m in a group.”

“Robert can give you a ride,” I suggest.

She meets my eyes, and I see hesitation there. I’m certain that Robert’s not the killer, but I can’t tell Grace I have proof. I’m about to suggest she ask Piper when Reid speaks up.

“Do you want me to give you a ride, Yeung?” Reid offers. “Rob’s going the other way because Jamie is riding with him.”