We were halfway through the day, and I hadn’t heard a single thing. I hadn’t even seen Zac or Robb, but I did see Linda. At lunch, she was sitting in her usual spot, her back pressed against the brick wall on the edge of the outside tables. For once, she didn’t look at me when I sat down next to her. She only stared at her nails. They were purple, and as much as I hated to admit it, they reminded me of Camille’s obsession with nail polish. “Why purple?” I asked. “Huh?” She glanced over, but her brown eyes didn’t widen. They were heavy, and small bags hung beneath them. She hadn’t slept. “Your nails,” I said. “Why are they purple?” She fixated back on them, but her fingers curled into a fist as if she didn’t want me to see them anymore. “Why? You want to borrow my bottle?” Fudicia was back. Their caustic tones were almost identical, and it was exactly what I wanted. I needed her to be both a human and a light if we were going to talk. “Did you know she tried to kill herself?”
