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A sick feeling settles in my gut.

Sienna.

This time, I don’t speed-walk. I run.

“She’s fine, Max. Stop being a basket case,” I say out loud, trying desperately to convince myself.

I blame Sienna for this. Over dinner, she’d gone on a rant about how suspicious it was that two of our classmates had died in as many days. Her suspicions had only grown worse when one of Mrs. Trott’s employees found Sydney’s clutch—with her EpiPen still inside—buried in the foyer trash.

“It must’ve been a prank by the Reds,” I’d said.

“I thought that too. But then why didn’t one of them pull it out of the trash when I started doing CPR on her?”

“Okay, so maybe it wasn’t one of the Reds. Maybe it was someone else. Or maybe someone threw her purse away by mistake. Accidents happen.”

“Not this many.”

That was the end of the conversation. But now, watching police cars converge towards the B&B, I can’t help wondering if there might be some truth to that old saying about bad things coming in threes.

If something happened to Sienna, I’ll never forgive myself. I’m the one who left her at the diner. I’m the one who handed over my keys and let her drive home alone.

Stupid, stupid, Max! Isn’t that one of the first things they teach us girls? There’s safety in numbers. If someone really is killing off our graduating class, then we need to stick together. So what kind of friend leaves her best friend alone?

My imagination has run faster than my feet were able to by the time I reach the B&B. The second I rush through the gate and see two attendants wheeling a gurney toward the waiting van with a black body bag strapped securely on top, my knees almost buckle beneath me.

A crowd of guests and onlookers has gathered outside, everyone whispering and speculating about whatever nightmare unfolded here tonight.

“Sienna!”

My chest constricts.

“Sienna!”

Panic claws its way up my throat as I push through the crowd.

“Sienna, where are you?”

Tears blur my vision.

“Sienna!!!”

Then I see Amber, sobbing uncontrollably while one of the deputies takes her statement.

Amber wouldn’t cry like that for Sienna. Which means—

“I’m here! I’m here!” I hear Sienna call from somewhere within the crowd.

Relief instantly washes over me as she pushes through, making her way toward me. I don’t give a shit about her aversion to hugs. I run straight into her and wrap my arms around her, holding on as tightly as she’ll allow me.

“I thought it was you.” The words break apart on a sob. “I was so scared. I was so scared, Sienna. I thought it was you.”

“Shh, Max. It’s okay. I’m fine,” she says, more gently than ever. “Just breathe. Calm down.”

It takes me a minute to do that, the fear of losing my friend making it almost impossible to breathe.

Sienna doesn’t rush me. She waits until my breathing evens out and some of the color returns to my cheeks.

“What happened?” I finally manage, looking back at the black body bag now fully loaded into the van. “Who is that?”