Its almost as though Fiona has come back to life.

The facial features are the same, though Deirdres hair is worn loose, hanging down her back, as opposed to Fionas always-constrained chignon. Shes wearing a flowing black dress that would never have a place in the tailored wardrobe her sister favored. And shes got a coffee stirrer in her hand, not a cigarettethough shes holding it like one.

The starkest difference, though, is the absence of Fees omnipresent crackling nervous energy.

Deirdre is positively bereft, her body almost limp as Brynn gives her another hug.

How are you holding up? Stupid question, Brynn thinks immediately, and one with an obvious answer.

She hates herself for resorting to common funeral fodder, but she cant help it. She, too, is utterly depleted.

First Tildy, and now Fiona. Its too much.

And then theres Ca.s.sie. Brynn e-mailed her the terrible news, though she figures that unless Ca.s.sie is on a remote island somewhere without access to television, radio, or newspapers, shes already heard.

Theres been no reply.

The silence is ominous.

Brynn is beginning to wonder if shes the only oneof the five girls who were up at the Prom that nightwho is still alive.

But shes well aware that the clock is still ticking.

Deirdre is saying sadly, I was telling Ashley earlier that her mother and I used to jump off this stage when we were kids, holding umbrellas, pretending we were Mary Poppins. It was our favorite movie.

Ive never seen it. But Aunt Deirdre is going to get it for me and were going to watch it.

That sounds like fun. Brynn musters a smile for Ashley, and notices that Garth has stepped away to greet one of the other professors from Stonebridge.

Its the first time hes left her side all day, but hes keeping a watchful eye on her even now.

I still cant believe it, Deirdre is saying, shaking her head and unwrapping a stick of gum. What a shock.

Where are you staying while youre in town, Deirdre? With your parents?

Are you kidding? She folds the gum into her mouth. At a hotel.

Have you spoken to them?

They tried. I just I cant. She shrugs, clearly guarded in front of Ashley. She rakes a hand through her hair and shakes her head at Brynn, as though wishing she could say more.

Which hotel are you staying in? Brynn asks Deirdre, even as shes suddenly struck by a thought so preposterous she tries to push it right back out of her head.

Up at Cedar Ridge Inn.

Why dont we get together and catch up? Brynn suggests. Maybe Ill come up and see you there later.

That would be so good, Brynn. I have so many questions about whats been going on.

Brynns heart is pounding.

Where are you staying again? she asks Deirdre.

At Cedar Ridge Inn. Its up on Tower Hill Road.

Is that the road that branches off of Mountainview?

No, thats on the opposite side of town. Deirdre looks slightly piqued at Brynns confusion.

Still holding her coffee in one hand and her black clutch purse in the other, Brynn asks helplessly, Can you just write down the directions for me?

Deirdre looks at her for a long moment. You know what? How about if I just come over to your place later instead? I dont want to hang around at that hotel anymore than I have to.

She knows,Brynn realizes, and the icy, awful truth slithers in and seems to coil around her torso, squeezing the breath out of her.She knows what Im thinking .

And that means that Im right.

PART V.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DEAR BRYNN.

CHAPTER 22.

h.e.l.lo there, Mrs. Saddler. Beautiful day to be outside, isnt it? Arnie gestures at the bright sun in a piercing late-October sky. Waiting for the school bus?

Howd you guess? Brynn rises from the front steps on liquid legs and walks halfway down the sidewalk to greet the smiling mailman.

Jeremy, kicking his way through a heap of dry leaves on the lawn, yells, Happy Halloween!

Not yet, sweetie. But only three more days, Brynn tells him.

Only? When youre a kid, three days is an eternity. Arnie flips through his satchel.

Yes, and when youre an adult, every precious moment can seem all too fleeting.

Especially when youre living in sheer dread as the days fall away on the calendar.

Looks like youve got a stack of cards today, Mrs. Saddler. Arnie hands over several bright-colored envelopes. Is it your birthday or something?

Tomorrow. She manages to keep her voice steady and a smile pinned to her face.

Well, Happy Birthday. Got any special plans?

Im going up to my friend Fionas cabin in the mountains, she tells him. Loudly. Mindful not just of the police officer concealed around the corner of her house, keeping an eye on her and Jeremy, but also of old Mr. Chase standing in his front yard next door, tr.i.m.m.i.n.g his shrubs.

Fiona Fitzgerald? Arnie shakes his head. That was such a shame, what happened to that poor woman. I knew you were friends, but I didnt want to say anything to upset you. Im really sorry for your loss, he adds awkwardly.

Thank you. She cant meet his gaze.

Have the police figured out who did it yet? Arnie asks.

No, not yet.

I bet youre shaken up.

Yes. Thats why Im going to get away tomorrow.

I dont blame you.

Brynn can sense the wheels turning in his head. She imagines him later, back at the post office, sorting mail or whatever it is that the carriers do when they finish their routes. h.e.l.l gossip about Fionas murder, because thats what everyone in town has been doing for days, and h.e.l.l recount what Brynn just told him.

She hopes.

And Mr. Chase over there across his leafless lawn, pretending to be engrossed in his precision shrubbery, will do the same thing later inside, with his wife. Sheila Chase is a notorious gossip And her social calendar is full every night. When she goes off to play bridge or whatever she has scheduled for tonight, sh.e.l.l mention Brynns birthday plans to leave town.

And shes going to stay in her dead friends cabin, can you imagine?

But Sheila Chase and Arnie the mailman certainly dont have an exclusive on that tidbit. Brynn has been talking about it for a couple of days now, telling anyone she sees. Calebs teacher, Mrs. Shimp, Thelma the supermarket checker, Barney the gas station attendant.

With any luck, her birthday plans will make their way to the right pair of ears. Just in case they dont, sh.e.l.l be leaving a note for Garth right there on the kitchen table.

He, of course, is aware of whats going on.

And he doesnt like it one bit.

In fact, when Detective Quincy first proposed that she help to bait a trap for the killer, Garth flat-out vetoed the plan, and Brynn did, too. But she came around pretty quickly when she realized that it might be the only way for the police to apprehend someone and put an end to this caged h.e.l.l shes been living in.

Why not just do it right here at home? she asked Detective Quincy.

Because thats too obvious. n.o.body would ever believe that youd sit here at home alone on your birthday after what happened to your friends. Youll be expected to run away, like Ca.s.sie did, and Fiona wanted to do.

At the mention of Fionas name, Brynn had to fight to maintain eye contact with the detective.

She hasnt breathed a word of her suspicion to anyonenot even Garth.

And it isnt her place to reveal this secret.

Sh.e.l.l leave that to its keeper.

Garth finds Brynn standing in the doorway of the boys room, watching them sleep.

She gasps when he puts his hands on her shoulders.

Sorry, she presses her palm against her chest, Im just jumpy tonight.

Of course she is.

So is Garth.

Not just because of the dangerous responsibility that lies before her tomorrow, but because of the one he faces tonight.

Right now.

Come on. He quietly pulls the boys door closed. Lets go to bed.

Youre coming, too? she asks in surprise. Hes gone back to his old nocturnal habits since Fionas funeral.

Dont you want me to?

Yes, she says quickly. That would be good. I dont want to sleep alone tonight.

Together, they go into the master bedroom. Garth closes the door and Brynn reaches for her nightgown on the hook behind it.

Wait. He touches her arm. I need to talk to you.

About tomorrow, she says heavily. I know, and, yes, Im scared out of my mind, but you know that I have to do Not about tomorrow, Brynn, he cuts in.

Theyve been over that enough times. She keeps insisting that going along with Quincy Hiless plan is her only option, and Garth finally pretended to agree. Hes going to drive the boys out to stay with her father and Sue first thing in the morning.

If its not about tomorrow, then what is it about?

Sit down, Brynn.

Whats wrong?

What isnt wrong?he thinks, leading her over to the bed. They both sit, on the edge of the mattress, angled toward each other.

Garth?

I dont want to do this.

It doesnt matter. You have to.

He takes a deep breath. Exhales.

Begins. You know how you kept that secret from me for all these years? About Rachel?

A shadow crosses her eyes before she closes them. Yes.

I had one, too.