Jaci kept reading, finding Joey’s next entry. His next confession.

Sept. 22: Found Jaci’s locker and got the combination from watching her use it. Tried it; it works. Including a copy of her schedule here. Gavin told me he’s doing the same thing with her friend Amanda. I didn’t realize she was also involved in this?

There was a question there in Joey’s words, a little bit of an expectation for more information. It was the first time Jaci had sensed any emotion behind his factual recordings, the first indication that perhaps Joey realized something sinister was going on, even if he didn’t want to believe it.

Amanda gave a quiet sigh, and Jaci turned toward her. She was already asleep, curled onto her side with her auburn curls falling around the pillow, the blue light from the television flickering over her figure.

Jaci clicked the next document.

Sept. 26: Mailed the postcard to Jaci’s house. Tried to get her attention in class but she didn’t notice me. Going to her track meet on Thursday.

Sept. 27: Went to her track meet tonight. She’s not very friendly. Followed her and her friend to Subway and talked to her at her booth. I’ll keep trying, but she didn’t act like she wanted to talk.

Jaci remembered that night. How she’d wondered why Joey would be talking to someone like her. How she’d judged him as being conceited and arrogant and pig-headed.

It hurt her heart to think her first assessment was closer to the truth.

Her head throbbed with the need to sleep, but only half an hour had passed. Just thinking about the charade she’d be pulling tomorrow made her stomach twist. She clicked the next document, widening her eyes to keep them open.

Sept. 28: Score! Got lucky. Jaci needed a partner in physics and I got assigned to her. We are meeting after school next week to plan our project together.

Triumph riddled his words. He’d successfully fooled his classmate, and his only concern was that he fulfill this task. Not even a second thought for her feelings. She hated him in that moment, hated him so much that her throat closed off and she couldn’t breathe. She rested her elbows on the table and pressed the palms of her hands against her eyes. She wanted to scream, or smash something, or yell at Joey until he understood how badly he’d hurt her. And she couldn’t, because he was dead.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, she told herself, taking deep, shaky breaths to ward off the tears. Whatever he’d done to her, he hadn’t deserved to die.

She closed down the file directory, done for the night. Done with everything. She opened up the messenger and typed a quick note to Ricky. He’d find it when he logged on.

So sorry. Too tired to wait for you to get home. Have something to tell you. Catch you tomorrow.

Maybe he’d be online tomorrow before they left.

With that thought, Jaci closed the computer and crawled into bed.

The day dawned crisp and clear, perfect for an outing. Jaci put on her thermals and layered a sweater over her long-sleeved shirt, followed by a scarf and a knit hat.

“You look so cute,” Amanda said, her attire similar except with lots of pink. “I love how your short hair looks with that hat.”

Jaci checked out her reflection. Her almond shaped eyes looked more tired than usual, though her skin still held its summer color. It had taken a few weeks to get used to the shoulder-length haircut, but now she enjoyed her bob. The straight dark hair brushed her shoulders and emphasized her slender face. “Yeah. I like it.”

Amanda joined her and puckered up at the mirror, pressing her cheek to Jaci’s. “But you know you’re always pretty, even when you don’t do anything.”

Jaci looped a finger through her hair and spun it, something that required more coordination now that her hair was too short to pull in front of her face. “Maybe.” Ricky liked her, even before she cut her hair and started wearing makeup and “girl clothes,” as Amanda called them.

Speaking of Ricky. She moved to her laptop and opened it up, checking to see if there was anything from him.

His icon showed him as online. Her heart skipped a beat and she sat down in front of the computer. He had written a response: What is it?

Can you talk? she wrote back.

She waited a few minutes. Mr. Murphy knocked on the door between their rooms, and Amanda opened it.

“Are we ready?” he asked.

Amanda glanced at Jaci. “I think so. A few more minutes, okay?”

“Five,” he said.

Jaci exhaled and drummed her fingers on the desk.

“Do you have everything you need?” Amanda whispered.

“Yes,” Jaci said. She’d have her purse, her two phones, her jacket, and the laptop. Everything she needed to run away.

“How does this go again?”

Jaci rehearsed the brief plan. “He’ll come up to us and act like a tour guide. We’ll go around with him, and he and I will make it obvious we like each other. Then we’ll sneak off.”

“I’m staying with you until I see you leave with your dad,” Amanda warned.

Jaci smiled in spite of the tense situation. “Thanks.”

She checked the computer again only to see that Ricky’s icon had turned dormant. He wasn’t offline, but he hadn’t touched the computer in awhile. Not surprising, really. It was about three in the morning there.

She hated not being able to talk to him before the charade began. But the time difference wasn’t helping. All she could do was give him a clue.

If you hear anything weird about me, it’s not true. But act like you believe.

Could she be any more cryptic? It was the best warning she could give him. She sighed and shut the laptop before shoving it in her purse. Hopefully she’d have the chance to explain to him once she was safely away with her dad.

“Shall we go to the park by the lake?” Mr. Murphy asked as they walked down the block. “There’s a museum over there we can check out.”

The morning was blustery and chilly, but the sun was shining. Jaci checked the phone her father had given to her. Nothing. She looked at Amanda and shrugged.

“Sure,” Amanda said. “Sounds nice.”

Jaci thought it would be too windy to be out on the lake, but apparently not everyone thought so. Several sailboats and other vessels bobbed on the white-tipped waves.

“Was that still something we wanted to do?” Mr. Murphy said, nodding in the direction of the boats.

Jaci had to admit it looked rather frightening. “Maybe another day, if it’s not too windy.”

“Yeah,” Amanda agreed. “Let’s just hang out in the park today.”

They walked the two blocks and went around the corner to the open plaza. In spite of the chill in the air, several people were out, walking their dogs or riding their bikes or sitting on a bench and chatting. The square stretched on toward the ornate buildings, rather bare of trees; instead of grass, it looked as if the entire square had been covered with ceramic tile. Chairs and benches sat in random places as if dragged by pedestrians into the plaza and then abandoned there. A few trees had been planted and several bike racks were screwed into the ground. A trolley track rolled along the outskirts, and many small fountains erupted from a circle in the middle of the plaza.

“What’s that over there?” Amanda said, pointing toward the water. Shops and tables with brightly colored awnings had been set up, and the crowd of people multiplied in the vicinity. “Some kind of sidewalk sale. Let’s check it out.”

“That’s the Weiner-dorf,” Mr. Murphy said, consulting a guide. “The Christmas market. It’s one of the big draws here.”

“The what?” Amanda peered over her dad’s shoulder at the guide and burst out laughing. “That’s not what it says!”

“I don’t speak German,” he said, sounding slightly miffed.

Jaci looked at it also. “Wienachtsdorf,” she read, though she wasn’t sure her pronunciation was any better than Mr. Murphy’s.

“That’s what I said,” he replied. “And that big white building behind it that looks like the White House on steroids? It’s the opera house. We should probably catch an opera while we’re here.”

“Forget the opera,” Amanda said, tugging on Jaci’s arm. “I’m all about the shopping!”

Jaci’s eyes scanned over the park, wondering where the boy was. What if they missed each other? What if she wasn’t where he expected her to be?

Amanda had reached the first booth while Mr. Murphy held out a map and a travel brochure, probably trying to figure out where they could go next. Jaci caught up to Amanda.

The booth displayed art canvases of different sizes. Amanda studied the black cloths with the bright colors on them and muttered to Jaci, “I really don’t get art. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be appreciating right here.”

Jaci gave a nervous giggle, still probing the crowd for her father. “Don’t ask me. I think I was born with no creative side.”

“Everyone has a creative side,” a voice said from Jaci’s shoulder, startling her.