Harper followed, stopping at the doorway, her insides jelly, watching as her father stepped away from the bed and Marcia huddled near the windows. The two attendants performed a quick examination of Gram, going through much the same routine as Harper and her father had only minutes earlier.

Ashen-faced, her fingers twining in the curtain, Marcia asked, “Is she—?”

Mr. Leonetti shook his head. To Craig, he said, “Go get the stretcher.” Then, as Craig hurried out, he explained that they were taking Gram to the hospital where a doctor would make the final call.

He didn’t say the words, but they all knew it. Gram was dead.

Harper, fighting tears, wilted against the wall.

Marcia pointed past the rain-drizzled panes. “Do you know what’s going on down there?”

“It’s the Hunt boy. Chase. Gone missing,” Mr. Leonetti said. “As I understand it, the Hunts’ boat was found adrift on the lake. I was about to go out there when I got the call to come here.”

“Dear Lord,” Marcia said.

“Chase Hunt?” Dad asked, staring at Mr. Leonetti as if he’d misheard before turning to his daughter.

“Oh. No.” Marcia’s eyes widened, and she, too, stared hard at Harper.

Harper shriveled inside.

“Did you know about this?” Dad asked.

Harper squeezed her eyes shut and nodded. She felt as if she might faint.

Dad whispered, “Tell me,” as he wrapped a comforting arm over her shoulders.

Harper’s throat closed. She felt as if she were ripped in two. She couldn’t get the words out.

“Wait a minute,” Marcia said. “Are you telling me that they think Chase is—?”

“Unknown,” Mr. Leonetti cut in. “But they called in a diver.”

“A diver?” Dad said. “Harper? What’s going on?”

Harper swallowed hard and closed her eyes and had trouble breathing. “I—” She forced the words out. “I . . . I was supposed to meet him last night . . . he was supposed to come here.”

“Oh my God!” Marcia stared at Harper in horror. “You were supposed to be taking care of your grandmother. And you were meeting that boy?”

“Let her finish!” Dad ordered.

Marcia said, “She was planning to leave! And Olivia was here . . . dying?”

Dad’s arm tightened over Harper’s shoulders. “What happened?” “Nothing!” Harper choked out. “He . . . he didn’t show up.” Her voice faded, and Marcia went off.

“That’s it? End of story?” she said, her eyes narrowing. “You just what? Said your prayers and went to bed?”

“Marcia!” Dad warned.

“Well, I’m sorry, but her grandmother died on Harper’s watch! She was supposed to take care of Olivia for one night! And now she’s admitted to letting Olivia swill vodka—”

“Gin,” Harper corrected.

“Whatever! The point is that you were planning to meet up with Chase Hunt while your grandmother died right here.” She pointed emphatically to the bed. “And Chase will probably end up drowned. Two dead, because of you!”

“Marcia! Enough!” Dad said, releasing Harper and taking a warning step toward his wife.

“Don’t you try to sugarcoat this, Bruce, you know that she’s been sneaking around to do God knows what—”