“It is weird,” I agreed. “And we can talk about all that stuff, but first I need to know how you found me, and why you’re here. Are you in trouble?”

Corry frowned, her slightly over-plucked eyebrows furrowing. “Not that I know of. No, I was just, like, worried about you. You sounded so freaked out when I talked to you before Christmas. I called you a bunch of times, but your phone was dead or something.” Her eyes lifted to meet mine. “You didn’t get my messages?”

I winced. My former cell phone had been lost after I went into the coma—I didn’t really know what had happened, but it had something to do with getting everyone’s car where it was supposed to be and moving my unconscious body back to Molly’s without the police noticing. Nobody had thought to look for or replace the phone until a day or two after I woke up, and if there was a way to get old messages onto the new phone, I had no idea how. I’m not exactly what you’d call “tech savvy.” “I’m sorry,” I said simply. “I didn’t.”

She bit her lip, nodding, and I realized how worried she’d been. Corry had been through so much, and she’d been that concerned about me. I changed the subject so I wouldn’t start misting up. Reputation to maintain and all that. “How did you find out where I live?” I asked

Corry gave a little shrug. “I didn’t know how else to find you, so this morning I called Will. He told me where you live.” Tentative smile. Will had neglected to mention Corry’s call, but I couldn’t really blame him for forgetting. “I took, like, three buses. I tried to call first, but my phone’s been crappy lately.”

I groaned inwardly. “Corry, honey, you’re fifteen. You can’t take the Metro by yourself at night; it isn’t safe.”

“I’m fine,” she said defensively.

I leaned forward so I could look her in the eye. “Where does your mother think you are right now?” I asked gently.

Corry blushed red, her fingers twisting together in her lap. “She thinks I’m at my dad’s place.”

That surprised me. “Your mom and dad . . . they split up?”

Corry nodded, suddenly seeming to shrink in on herself. “My mom found out about . . . about my teacher. She told my dad. He kinda freaked out.” I winced again. And as if she hadn’t been through enough already, now she had to go through all the emotional turmoil of her parents’ divorce.

“How did your mom find out?” I asked.

“I told her.” Corry swallowed. “My therapist thought I should. My mom took it really well, considering.” Tiny smile. “And when my dad flipped, she had my back.” I saw her eyes fill, and I wished I could rush over and hug her, but my stupid leg was such a dead weight, it might as well have been part of the couch. “I’m at a different school now, and my dad moved out . . .” Another shrug. “It’s a lot of change, but it’s better than lying all the time, hiding.”

“I’m very proud of you,” I said softly. She nodded and looked away with a little smile. I took a deep breath. “But you’re right, Corry: no more lies.” I leaned to one side, so I could pull my cell phone out of my pocket. I tossed it to her, and she caught it automatically, a questioning look on her face. “Call your mother,” I ordered. “Tell her where you are, and that I’ll drive you home.”

Corry seemed like she was about to protest, but after a long look at my face, she sighed and nodded. I stayed where I was on the couch while Corry stepped into the hallway. I heard snatches of her side of the conversation—her mom was doing most of the talking—and finally she slumped back into the room, holding the phone out. “She wants to talk to you,” Corry said unhappily.

Yeeps. I really didn’t want to actually talk to an authority figure. I wasn’t, like, one of the adults or anything. But in for a penny . . . I took the phone. “Mrs. Tanger?”

“Ellen, please,” said a cultured, tired voice on the other end of the phone. I’d met Corry’s mom very briefly, but I hadn’t even known her first name until that moment. “Anyone who houses my runaway daughter gets to call me Ellen.”

“I’m sorry,” I said to Ellen Tanger. “I’m glad to see her, but I wish the circumstances were different.”

Corry’s mother gave a very ladylike little snort. “As do I. Did she tell you that she was grounded?”

I glanced at Corry, who had returned to her seat and folded her arms across her chest defensively. “No, she didn’t,” I said carefully.

“I didn’t think so.” There was a long, staticky noise as Ellen Tanger sighed into the phone. “This isn’t the first time she’s snuck out, Miss Bernard.”

“Scarlett,” I said automatically. “Anyone who trusts me with their runaway daughter gets to call me Scarlett.”

“Scarlett, then,” she said, ignoring the lame joke. “I kept thinking that with a new school, a new . . . family arrangement, this behavior would stop.” There was a little catch in her voice, and when she spoke again, it was with desperation. “I’m sorry that Corry invited you into our problems, but . . . what am I supposed to do? What did your mother do?”

There was no reason for that to sting, but it did. “My mother is dead,” I said quietly.

Corry’s mother sucked in a breath. “Was it . . . one of them?” she asked fearfully.