Pip fidgeted nervously under the table, hoping Cara was too busy talking to notice. It was the first time that Pip had ever had to keep things from her, and the nerves kicked around in her stomach.

They’d made it through the third day back at school, when teachers stopped talking about what they were going to teach and actually started teaching. Pip and Cara were in the Wards’ kitchen, pretending to do homework, but really, Cara was unspooling into an existential crisis.

“And I told him I still have no clue which college I want to go to, and he’s all ‘Time’s ticking, Cara,’ and it’s stressing me out. Have you decided yet?”

“Yeah, a few days ago,” Pip said.

“You are the worst person to vent to about life plans.” Cara snorted. “I bet you already know what you want to do when you’re a big girl too. Go on, tell me, where are you applying?”

“Columbia. Going early decision, hopefully.”

“Your efficiency offends me.”

Pip’s phone buzzed on the table.

“Who’s that?” Cara asked.

“It’s just Ravi Singh,” Pip said, scanning the text, “seeing if I have any more updates.”

“Oh, we’re texting each other now, are we?” Cara said playfully. “Should I be saving a date next week for the wedding?”

Pip threw a pen at her. How ridiculous; they were just working together, that was all.

“Well, do you have any Andie Bell updates?” Cara said.

“No,” Pip said. “Absolutely nothing new.”

The lie made the knot in her gut squeeze tighter.

Ant and Connor were still denying they put the note in her sleeping bag when she’d asked at school. They suggested maybe it was Zach or one of the girls. Of course, their denial wasn’t solid proof it hadn’t been them. But Pip had to consider the other possibility: What if? What if it was actually someone involved in the Andie Bell case trying to scare her into giving up the project? Someone who had a lot to lose if she kept going.

She told no one about the note: not the girls, not the boys when they asked what it said, not her parents, not even Ravi. Their concern might stop her project dead in its tracks, and she couldn’t risk that. She had to keep this secret close to her chest, and she would learn from the master, Miss Andie Bell.

“Where’s your dad?” asked Pip.

“Dude, he came in, like, fifteen minutes ago to say he was off tutoring.”

“Oh, right,” Pip said. Secrets were distracting. Mr. Ward had always tutored three times a week; it was part of the Ward routine, which Pip knew by heart. Her nerves were making her sloppy. Cara would notice she was hiding something; she knew Pip too well. She had to calm down; she was here for a reason. Being skittish would only get her caught.

She could hear the buzz and thud of the television in the other room; Naomi was watching some crime drama that involved a lot of pew-pewing guns.

Now was the perfect moment to act.

“Hey, can I borrow your laptop for two secs?” she asked Cara, relaxing her face so it wouldn’t betray her. “Just want to look up this book for English.”

“Yep, sure,” Cara said, passing it across. “Don’t close my tabs.”

“Won’t,” Pip said, turning the laptop so Cara couldn’t see the screen.

Pip’s heartbeat picked up. There was so much blood behind her face she must be turning red. She leaned down to hide behind the screen and clicked up the control panel.

She’d been up until three last night, the note haunting her when she closed her eyes. So she did some research, trawling through the internet, looking at badly worded instruction manuals for wireless printers.

Anyone could have followed her there into the woods. That was clear. Anyone could have watched her, lured her and her friends out of the canopy so they could leave their message. But there was only one name on her persons of interest list who would have known exactly where Pip and Cara were camping: Naomi.

Pip had been stupid to discount her because of the Naomi she thought she knew. There could well be another Naomi. One who might or might not be lying about leaving Max’s for a period of time the night Andie died. One who might or might not have been in love with Sal. One who might or might not have hated Andie enough to kill her.

After hours of reading, Pip had learned there was no way to see the previous documents a wireless printer had printed. And no one in their right mind would save a threatening note like that on their computer, so attempting to look through Naomi’s documents would be pointless. But there was something else she could do.

With the steps memorized from a how-to web page, Pip opened up the Devices and Printers settings on Cara’s laptop and hovered the mouse over the name of the Ward family printer: Freddie Prints Jr. She right-clicked into Printer Properties and onto the Advanced tab, checked the box next to Keep Printed Documents, clicked apply, and it was done. She closed down the panel and navigated back to Cara’s homework.

“Thanks,” she said, passing the laptop over, certain that her heart was loud enough to hear.

“No problemo.”

Cara’s laptop would now keep track of everything that came through their printer. If Pip received another printed message, she could find out for sure if it had come from Naomi or not.

The kitchen door opened with an explosion from the White House, and screaming federal agents. Naomi stood in the doorframe.

“God, Nai,” Cara said, “we’re working in here; can you turn it down?”

“Sorry,” she whispered, as though it compensated for the loud TV. “Just getting a drink. You OK, Pip?” Naomi looked at her with a puzzled expression, and Pip realized she had been staring first.

“Oh…yep. Just made me jump,” she said, her smile just a little too wide, carving uncomfortably into her cheeks.