I stared at the text for the rest of the afternoon.

Mom drove me home, asked twice if I was all right, and when I said yes both times she let it sit.

She knew my yes.

She knew the difference between the one that meant fine and the one that meant not yet.

I changed out of the damp clothes, folded Ryan's jacket carefully, and sat on the edge of my bed with my phone in my hands.

*Ask Ryan who told her your name.*

Ryan had been kind.

He'd pushed through a crowd of people who were laughing and filming, taken off his jacket, and put it around my shoulders.

That wasn't the behavior of someone who had set me up.

But the text didn't say Ryan had told her.

It said to ask him who did.

I found his number through the school directory app — the one the academy used for parent and student contacts.

I typed the message three times before I sent it.

*This is Emily.

I need to ask you something and I need you to be honest with me.*

The reply came in under a minute.

*Okay.*

*Did you know Madison was going to do that today?*

A longer pause this time.

*No.

I swear I didn't.*

*Then who told her my last name before I introduced myself to anyone?*

The pause stretched out.

Long enough that I stood up and walked to the window.

Long enough that I started to wonder if he'd put the phone down.

Then: *Can I call you?*

I sat back down.

*Yes.*

The phone rang.

"I didn't tell her," he said, before I could speak.

"But I think I know who did.

And I've been trying to figure out how to tell you since this morning."

"Tell me now."

He exhaled.

"There's a girl in our year.

Serena Walsh.

Her family and yours have some kind of history — I don't know the details, but she's mentioned your dad's name before in a way that wasn't friendly.

When you enrolled, she knew who you were before the first day.

I heard her tell Madison."

"Why would Serena Walsh care about me?"

"I don't know exactly.

But she was smiling when the bucket came down.

I noticed because she was the only one who wasn't surprised."

I thought about the week.

All the small, precise cruelties.

The way they had started immediately, before Madison could have formed an opinion of me on her own.

Someone had primed her.

"What do you know about Serena's family?"

"Her mom works in real estate.

Commercial leasing, I think.

My dad mentioned her once — said she'd been trying to get a meeting with your father's company for years and kept getting turned down."

Something settled into place like a key finding a lock.

"Ryan.

Does Serena know you called your dad today?"

A beat.

"Yeah.

She was standing right there when I did it."

"Okay," I said.

"Emily — what are you going to do?"

I looked at the folded jacket on my desk.

"I'm going to find out what her mother wanted from my father," I said.

"And why she was willing to use a sixteen-year-old girl with a bucket to get it."

Ryan was quiet for a moment.

"I want to help," he said.

"If you'll let me."

I almost said no.

Old reflex — handle it alone, prove you don't need anyone.

"Okay," I said instead.

"But I need one more thing from you first."

"What?"

"The name of whoever sent me this text."

Another silence.

Longer this time.

"How did you get that number?" he said quietly.

I looked at the screen.

"So it was you."

He didn't deny it.

"I didn't want to say it out loud in the building," he said.

"I didn't know who was listening."

I thought about that.

About a boy who'd already stuck his neck out once today, who'd called his father and then sent an anonymous text and then answered my call anyway.

"Ryan."

"Yeah?"

"Thank you.

Again."

"Don't thank me yet," he said.

"Serena's going to find out you're asking questions.

And when she does, she's not going to stay quiet."

He was right.

She didn't.