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This one shows a group of us standing outside the school on a bright spring afternoon. I recognize Paige immediately, along with Dylan, Kody, Craig and a few others whose names I haven’t thought about in years.

For a moment, I find myself smiling at the memory.

Then the photograph changes, and Milo’s face appears again.

I stare at him, my smile slowly fading as I remember why I came here tonight.

I need to find him.

“Max?” Mikayla’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

She hesitates, glancing toward Peyton before lowering her voice.

“Is it true what Kayla said at the vigil? About what happened at the paper mill?”

A lump forms in my throat as the small group of women falls silent, waiting for me to say something.

“Is it true that Peyton was somehow responsible?” She looks at me carefully. “That she was the one who started the fire?”

I glance over at Peyton, still holding court among her admirers and basking in the attention.

Ten years. Ten fucking years she’s gotten away with what she did, while I’ve been permanently marked by that night ever since.

“It’s true,” I say, my voice hardening. “Everyone is so worried about the Reunion killer, while they’ve let her roam free for years. The only murderer in this room is Peyton Crawford. She’s the one who killed my friends that night.”

Mikayla’s lips part in surprise, but before she can say anything, I reach up and tug at the scarf tied around my neck, exposing the scars I’ve spent the better part of a decade trying to hide.

“I should know,” I add, looking each of them in the eye. “She tried to kill me too.”

Chapter 38

Fairhope, July 8th, 2016

“I still can’t believe you’re leaving. Gotta say, I’m a little impressed,” Sienna says, lying on my bed as she watches me pack my bags.

“Were you expecting me to curl up in a ball in the corner and cry just because I didn’t get into Brown?”

“Something like that,” she mutters, pulling a black T-shirt from my suitcase. “I like this one. I’m keeping it as a memento of our friendship.”

“Knock yourself out.” I laugh. “And you don’t need a memento. We’ll still be friends. Just because I’m leaving for Boston doesn’t mean we’ll stop talking.”

“You say that now, but life has a funny way of getting in the way. At first, we’ll talk on the phone a few times a day. Then it’ll be once a week, and before you know it, we’ll be exchanging the occasional meme or whatever. After that? Radio silence. With you in Boston and me across the country at Stanford, we’ll get too caught up in our own lives to make time for each other anymore. It’s just how the cookie crumbles.”

“Always the optimist,” I tease, grabbing a few hoodies from my dresser and stuffing them into my suitcase.

“Just calling it like I see it.” She shrugs, though the frown tugging at her lips tells me there’s more to it than that.

I stop what I’m doing and turn to her, planting my hands on my hips.

“Listen here, Sienna Hartley. Just because we’ll be on opposite sides of the country doesn’t mean you’re getting rid of me that easily. You’re my best friend. Nothing will ever change that. We’ll make it work, okay?”

“Ugh. Stop being all sentimental. I was just messing with you.”

I arch a brow because I’m pretty sure she wasn’t. She’s just covering up a rare moment of vulnerability with her usual armor of sarcasm. Still, I let it slide.

“Besides, you shouldn’t be worrying about me,” she adds, waving a dismissive hand. “How’s your boyfriend taking the fact that you’re leaving for Boston tomorrow?”