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sniffling. Hannah was sure that Rowan had ingested a king’s ransom in cocaine that night.

Daniel rubbed his palms into his eyes. “I just wanted to do what’s right, but it was very confusing. And you are very confusing, Rowan.”

“I didn’t mean to bring something dangerous,” Hannah whispered.

“You didn’t,” said Daniel. “Forget that.”

Rowan stepped closer to her. “Oh, Hannah.” She enveloped Hannah in a hug. “It’s not your fault. We were all passed out. You didn’t know how severe his allergy was. We just can’t tell anyone about this, okay?” Now, the sun was just starting to rise, streaking the sky with amber. “This was just a bad night. But one thing at a time, right?”

“It was a terrible night,” said Daniel. “At last we agree.”

“So we need to get our stories straight,” said Stella. “Because when anyone realizes he’s missing, we all need to be on exactly the same page. Rowan. Did you take any photos at all this evening?”

Rowan pulled out her phone. “I posted one. Maybe two.”

“Delete it, now,” said Stella.

Hannah bit her lip. “When would someone be likely to notice he’s missing? Soon?”

Stella shook her head. “No. He doesn’t live with anyone. He doesn’t see many people socially except us. Monday is Memorial Day, and then—well, I don’t know when his colleagues might report him missing, but it’s the end of the school year, so it would be normal to take time off.”

The sky was brightening—a pale blue that spread out above them. Rowan pulled Hannah in tight.

But Rowan’s warmth wasn’t enough, because Hannah was sure that they were careening into icy disaster.

Thirty

Hannah knelt on her kitchen floor, her mind still in a fog from the party. It still seemed unreal, like she was watching someone else’s increasingly nightmarish life unspool on a screen. The ants were crawling around her now, over the tiles. Slowly, she traced her fingertips over the S&O bracelet on her wrist.

She caught a glimpse of herself in the shiny metal handle on the side of the cabinet. Her hair looked disheveled, her eye makeup smudged halfway down her face.

She would never drink again. Not beer, not spritzers. Not even Luke’s homemade wine.

With a tight chest, she pulled open one of the wood cabinets beneath her sink. There, stuffed into a paper shopping bag, was her recycling. She reached for the folded-up brownie box and pulled it out carefully.

She scanned the ingredient list, slowly breathing out. Sugar, cocoa powder, chocolate chips… Nothing anywhere about nuts. That was a good start, but she still didn’t know about the factory line situation.

She slid it back into the recycling and hoisted herself up.

As she stood, her gaze slid across her countertop. She stared at it, wondering how she’d missed it before. She used to keep this place so clean…

There on the counter was an open jar of peanut butter. Two knives, bread that hadn’t been closed. No wonder the ants were going crazy today.

But the knives were the problem. She’d used one of them to make Nora’s sandwich, and one of them to test the brownies. What if she’d used the peanut butter knife to test the brownies? Ants crawled over it now, swarming around the thin smudges of peanut butter.

Guilt pressed on her chest.

What could she do now? She had to clean everything. Then she’d be able to think clearly. She’d scrub the house from top to bottom, get rid of the ants, and her thoughts would be clear.

Her phone buzzed on the floor, and she practically jumped out of her skin. She picked it up, relieved to see it was Luke. She needed him now more than anything, because she could feel herself about to spiral out of control.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Han. We’re just outside. We stopped at Friendly Toast for breakfast, and she’s a bit covered in maple syrup.”

“You’re here already?” she said.

“I thought we said nine? I have that meeting this morning, remember?”

“Sorry, I forgot.” In fact, it was erased from her memory entirely.

“I could reschedule…” he said.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll buzz you up.”

She crossed to the door and took a moment to lean against it, her forehead against her arm. Then she pushed the buzzer.

She heard the stairs creaking below, and Nora’s happy chatter through the door. “Go see Mama. Mama home.”

She pulled the door open.

Luke stared at her for a little too long, and she remembered how she looked. Still in her dress, hair a mess, smudged makeup. Hastily, she licked her finger and tried to rub some of the makeup off from under her eyes. “Hi. Sorry, I slept in my clothes.”

“Late night?” he asked.

“Too late, unfortunately.”

“Mama!” Nora wriggled out of his arms onto the floor.

Warmth lit Hannah as she picked up Nora and pulled her close. She closed her eyes, nestling her face into Nora’s neck. She smelled faintly of syrup and milk.

Hannah didn’t even realize that tears were stinging her eyes until Luke asked, “What’s wrong?” He leaned against the doorframe. “Annie?”

She hugged Nora close, like a shield. “Uh, just… hungover, I guess.”

“Did something upset you at the party?” He could always tell when something was wrong. He could read her like a book. “Was that guy you hated there? The judgmental one.”

She squeezed Nora closer.

“Too tight, Mama!”

“I didn’t hate him.” It came out too sharp. Angry, almost. And it took her a moment to realize she’d used the past tense. “I mean, I don’t hate him.”

Luke’s smile faded. “I thought you said… he was pompous and judgmental or something.”

“It was just an awkward conversation, that’s all. You don’t have to turn it into me hating him. Anyway, sorry. I just let loose maybe a little too much. Luke, this is a weird question, but were you here when I tested the brownies? When I took them out to see if they were done?”

“I don’t think so. Only you talking about the ant poison. Why?”

“I just was worried about the knife I used. There was one with peanut butter, and one without. And someone at the party is

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