I yawned audibly as she gave me turn-by-turn directions to the university, the long night I’d spent on Vero’s trundle beginning to catch up to me. My short bursts of sleep had been plagued by nightmares. In one, Zach turned into a poop-covered monster and hid under his bed, and Delia was possessed by a vomiting spirit she’d picked up at preschool. Nick had been wearing a black pajama robe with a white collar and holding a cross, screaming in terror as my puking, red-eyed demon children advanced on him, demanding cookies and fruit snacks. It was like watching a reimagined version ofThe Exorcistwith more excrement and only a little less swearing.
The worst of my nightmares had kept me up for the rest of the night. Dr. Wiley had peered out from behind the drape over my knees and informed me I wouldn’t be needing birth control afterall; she had read my lady parts like a Magic 8 Ball, she’d said, and when she’d asked them if I’d ever have sex again, they told herDon’t count on it. Then she’d opened an Amazon page on her tablet and read me the two-star review she’d given my book:Not as sexy as I’d hoped. Spice level = meh. Boring and disorganized. Do not recommend.
“I need some coffee,” I said, putting on my turn signal when I spotted a 7–Eleven.
Vero sat up in her seat. “I have a better idea. Pull into that Taco Bell up ahead.”
“I thought you hated Taco Bell.”
“I do.”
“Then why are we going? You just ate breakfast at home.”
“Just pull into the drive-through,” she said. “Let me handle the order.”
I pulled around to the drive-through. She called out an order for two Cheesy Gordita Crunches with a side of Mexican Pizza Sauce and made a disgusted face when I handed her the bag.
“What’s the plan?” I asked as I took a greedy gulp of my iced coffee.
Vero set the nav on my phone and put it on the dashboard between us. “Drive to the sorority house. Park out front, but not too close. I don’t want anyone to see me. I’m not supposed to be anywhere near campus. Don doesn’t want me to interact with anyone involved in my case.”
“Then how are you supposed to talk to Zoey?”
“Easy,” she said as I turned onto Fraternity Row. “You’re going to take this order and knock on the front door. Tell whoever answers it’s a DoorDash order for Zoey Kline.” Vero opened the bag containing our order and scribbled a message on the napkin. I glanced over to see what it said.
Meet me out front.
“It’s a little vague, isn’t it? How will Zoey know the message is from you?”
“Trust me, she’ll know. Park over there,” Vero said, pointing at an empty space along the arch. She ducked low in her seat as I put the van in park, pulling her hoodie up to conceal most of her face.
Fraternity Row was shaped like a long horseshoe. The tree-lined drive curved around a sprawling green space. Groups of students were reading on blankets in the sun, playing Frisbee, or kicking soccer balls around. The outside of the horseshoe was flanked by at least a dozen brick McMansions, all of them boasting three stories, Grecian columns, and meticulously landscaped lawns. Greek letters adorned the trim crowning their elaborate front doors. It wasn’t at all what I had envisioned. I had never joined a sorority during my four years in college, and the frat houses my ex-husband had dragged me to for parties where we had gone to school hadn’t looked anything like this.
“That’s the one,” Vero said, pointing across the arch to one of the houses. Flowering shrubs lined the wide front steps that led to a sweeping covered porch.
“This is beautiful,” I admitted. “I pictured empty beer cans everywhere and old sofas on the lawn.”
“There’s plenty of that off-campus,” she said wryly. “These houses are mostly for freshmen and sophomores. It’s a good place for the younger members. Each chapter has an adult director—like a house mom—who supervises the day-to-day activities. There are chefs and housekeepers to handle meals and maintenance, and a handful of chapter leaders stay in the house to organize social events and run the meetings. Most of the upperclassmen move into their own houses farther from campus. That’s where the bestparties usually are.” Vero checked the clock on the dashboard. “If we hurry, there might still be time to go looking for Theo before my curfew.”
I got out of the van with our fast-food order and carried it to the house. I lifted my arm, unsure if I should use the giant brass knocker or the intercom buzzer on the key-card panel beside the front door. I didn’t have to decide. The door swung open, and a stately brunette came out, wearing a fitted pantsuit and a designer purse over her shoulder.
I was caught off guard and nearly stumbled backward. Not because of her imperious look or her quick stride or even the confident way she held herself. I had the immediate impression I’d seen this young woman before, in Vero’s photos.
She spared a quick glance at my fast-food bag but didn’t bother to ask me about it. She held the door open for me as she passed. I thanked her and slipped into the building without so much as an introduction.
I stood in the vast foyer on a marbled checkerboard of black-and-white floor tiles. I looked through an empty parlor to my right and up the sweeping staircase beyond it, unsure exactly where to start. I turned left and continued down the hall. The long corridor was flanked with decorated doors on each side. Most had name tags and small dry-erase boards stuck to them where the residents could leave short notes for one another. This part of the house didn’t look much different from most college dormitories I’d been in, and the familiarity of it was a boon. I moved quickly, checking the names, and paused in front ofAVA FERRANTE.
Ava wasn’t a common name. This had to be the same one Vero had told me about.
I moved closer, skimming the handwritten messages on her dry-erase board.
A—
Must have just missed you. Order is ready. J and B will bring it later when you’re back from class.
—M
Could the woman I’d just run into at the front door have been Mia?
