89
“Are you sure he’s dead?” Rachel asked.
Evie glanced at Rachel, nose pink with cold, as they tramped through the woods toward Evie’s house. It was edging toward dark, and if Rachel’s mom knew they were still outside, she’d have a hissy fit.
They’d had this conversation before, but Rachel kept returning to it. She might have been annoyed, but Evie understood. Plus every time she asked, Rachel sounded stronger, like she was closer to believing it. And every time Evie said the same thing, she did, too.
“He’s dead. They both are,” Evie said, though her brain still got fuzzy when she tried to figure out the other man. “Are you sure the older one was Adam’s dad?”
“That’s what Mom said.” Rachel’s voice took on the whispery quality that anything like gossip required. “I think that’s why sh
