Chapter 2

The last bell released Jefferson High in a flood of noise and motion, and Komiko moved with it the way she always did — near the wall, head slightly down, letting the current carry her toward the exit without drawing attention to herself.

Katie fell into step beside her at the first intersection of hallways, appearing from the direction of the gym the way she sometimes did, backpack on one shoulder, copper waves still slightly damp at the temples from whatever she’d been doing in PE. She matched Komiko’s pace without comment, which was something Komiko was already getting used to. Katie didn’t announce herself. She just arrived.

They walked together to the front entrance without talking. It had stopped being uncomfortable — the quiet between them — sometime around the second day. It just was.

At the top of the front steps they slowed. This was where their directions separated. Komiko’s house was six blocks east. Katie’s foster home was somewhere in the other direction, she’d mentioned once without elaborating.

Katie shifted her backpack. Looked out at the street. Then, without particular ceremony, held out her hand.

“Phone.”

Komiko blinked. “What?”

“Give me your phone. I’ll put my number in.”

Something small and warm moved through Komiko’s chest. She got her phone out and handed it over. Katie typed quickly, added a contact, called herself so she’d have the number, and handed it back.

“Text me later,” she said. Not a question.

“Okay,” Komiko said.

Katie nodded once — that same settled nod, the matter resolved — and headed down the steps. Komiko watched her go for a moment. The copper hair catching the late afternoon light. The straight set of her shoulders.

She looked down at her phone.

Katie McDonnell.

She held it for a moment, then put it in her pocket and walked home.

The Tanaka house was quiet when she got in, which was its usual state. Large and well-furnished and full of the kind of silence that had a specific texture — not peaceful exactly, more like held breath. Like the house itself was still waiting for something bad that had stopped coming six months ago and hadn’t fully believed it yet.