Guilt sparked, burning me. I’d done the same thing to Cole. Well, no more. Tomorrow, I’d tell him everything. Whatever happened, happened. I’d be a big girl and deal.

“Hunt down Bronx and explain how you feel,” I said. “This isn’t working for you. Something is broken and you need to fix it. Right away. If you wait, something else will need fixing soon enough, and then something else, until there’s too much to do and both parties walk away depressed, defeated.”

“Yeah. Okay,” she said, but she still sounded miserable.

She’d do what I suggested or not. I couldn’t force her.

“Let’s shelve the discussion about our boys.” Kat lifted her phone to snap a photo of Reeve. “It’s selfie time!”

I made a face at her, and she snapped one of me.

“That’s it,” she praised, click-click-clicking away. “Make love to the camera.”

She turned the phone on herself and grinned so wide she unveiled a mouthful of pearly whites. Click, click. “Dude! I think me and the camera just made a baby.”

I snorted, reminded all over again why I loved her so danged much.

“Enough,” Reeve said with a laugh, taking the phone away from her.

“Fine,” Kat said. “So get this, guys. I got a call from Wren a few hours ago.”

“What! That should have been the headline.” Wren had been Kat’s friend for years, only to ditch her—and by association, ditch me—so that we wouldn’t draw her into our crazy and ruin her future. Not that she’d had any idea what our particular crazy happened to be. Then she’d started dating Justin, not realizing he was just as deeply ensconced as we were. “What’d she say?”

“Hear for yourself. She left a message.” Kat reclaimed her phone, pressed a few buttons.

“Kat, it’s Wren.” The device practically vibrated with the volume. “Look, I know I’m not your favorite person, and that’s fine. But Justin is missing. Jaclyn, too. Their parents are, like, totally freaking. The cops came and asked me all kinds of questions, but I didn’t say anything about it, I swear. I’m just worried something’s happened. Have you seen them? Heard from them? Call me back. Please.”

Kat sighed. “I haven’t called her back. I don’t know what to say.”

I thought for a moment. “Let me discuss it with Cole before you do. Because honestly? We don’t know if she’s for real, or if the police have convinced her to try and trap us into saying something we shouldn’t, or even if Anima has her phone tapped.”

Kat wedged between Reeve and me. “That’s such a good point it’s almost as if I thought of it myself. And not to switch topics, but...I’m going to switch topics. To me! I’ve decided to stop waiting to die, stop letting worry ruin the days I do have and start planning an actual future.”

I rested my head on her shoulder. “As long as you keep doing your dialysis, I’m happy for you.”

“Dude. No worries on that score.”

“Then tell me everything. Even the smallest details.”

“Well,” she said, getting more comfortable, “here’s what I’ve got so far. I’m going to college and getting a Ph.D. in being awesome. That’s a thing, right? Everyone will call me Dr. Kitten and pay me megabucks to diagnose all their problems. Because, of course, I will have all the answers.”

The trials of the day caught up to me. My eyelids grew heavy. I struggled to keep them open, her voice the sweetest lullaby.

“I’m going to live with Frosty, and he’s going to cater to my every whim. When I’ve decided he’s earned the right to be Mr. Kat Parker, I will marry him. You two will be maids of honor, of course. I’m going to force you to wear the most hideous gowns ever created. Can’t have anyone thinking you’re prettier than the bride.”

It was, in a word, perfect.

I wondered about my own future plans. Or tried to. I couldn’t see past this war with Anima. I was...

Mmm, so warm...

As Kat talked about her honeymoon, I drifted away....

It was the saddest day of my life.

The whispering voice penetrated my awareness. It didn’t belong to me. Didn’t belong to Kat or Reeve, either....

The next thing I knew, I was outside. Helen and Sami stood hand in hand on a dirt road, a dark sedan parked behind them. Looked to be empty. Another sedan pulled up and stopped alongside it. Hinges on the door squeaked as—shock hit me—my dad emerged.

He was so young. There were no lines around his eyes. His skin wasn’t sallow from years of hard drinking, and his eyes weren’t bloodshot. He was handsome, radiating health—and anger.

He stomped to Helen, his gaze continuously flicking to the little girl. “How could you keep her from me?”

Helen raised her chin. “Would you have done anything differently if you’d known? No. You would have married Miranda, and we both know it.”

He flinched, and the little girl darted behind Helen’s leg.

My dad softened. He crouched in an effort to meet the girl eye to eye. “Hello,” he said. “I’m Ph—your dad.”

Sami stayed right where she was.

“She’s not to know who I am,” Helen said. “You’re never to speak of me. As far as the world is concerned, Miranda gave birth to her, and there will be paperwork to prove it. Do you understand?”

“No. I don’t understand. I don’t understand any of this. She needs us both. She—”