“I will not—”

Dr. Stayner anticipates and cuts my objection off at the knee caps. “You’ve been drunk before, right?”

I purse my lips tightly.

“Haven’t you?”

A night flashes in my mind without much thought. Six months before the accident, Jenny and I went to a field party and got loaded off Jagger bombs. It was one of the most fun nights I’d ever had. The next morning was another story.

“That’s right,” Dr. Stayner continues as if he can read my mind. Maybe he can. Maybe he’s a super-freak quack. “You probably did a few stupid things, said a few stupid things.”

I nod begrudgingly.

“How drunk were you?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. I was … drunk.”

“Yes, but how drunk?”

I level him with a glower. “What is wrong with you?”

Again, he ignores me. “Would you have driven home?”

“Uh, no?”

“And why not?”

“Because I was fifteen at the time, genius!” My fingers are turning white now, gripping onto the chair handles so tightly.

“Right,” he waves his hand dismissively. But his point hasn’t been made apparently. “What about your friend? Friends? Exactly how drunk were they?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. Drunk.”

“Was it easy to tell? Was it so obvious that they were drunk?”

I frown as I think back to Jenny dancing and singing on top of a picnic table to Hannah Montana. How drunk was she exactly, I have no clue. Jenny would do that dead sober. Finally I shrug, the memory bringing a painful lump to the back of my throat.

“What if, at the end of the night, that friend told you they had stopped drinking hours ago and could drive home? Would you believe them?”

“No,” I answer quickly.

That finger goes up again, waggling. “Think about that for a minute, now Kacey. We’ve all been there. Out for a good night, had a few drinks. You know you can’t drive, but do you automatically not trust anyone else? I’ve been there, myself.”

“Are you making excuses for drunk driving, Dr. Stayner?”

He’s shaking his head furiously. “Absolutely not, Kacey. There’s no excuse. Only terrible consequences that people have to live with for the rest of their lives when they make one stupid decision.”

We’re silent for a moment, the doctor no doubt still waiting for my answer.

I look at my hands. “I guess that could happen,” I begrudgingly admit. Yeah, thinking back, there may have been one or two times that I climbed into a car, assuming the driver was fine because they said so.

“Yes, it could.” Dr. Stayner nods knowingly. “And it did happen. To Cole.”

My rage ignites suddenly. “What the hell are you doing? Are you on his side?” I snap.

“I’m on no one’s side, Kacey.” His voice has changed to even and calm once again. “When I hear your story—the tragic accident—I can’t help but empathize with everyone involved. You. Your family. The boys who died because they didn’t do something as simple as buckle their seat belts. And Cole, the guy who handed someone his keys. When I hear his story, I feel—”

I storm out of Dr. Stayner’s office then, with his shouts of, “Empathy!” following me all the way down the hall, into my room, looking for ways to crawl into my soul and torment me.

***

“How’s it going there?” I want to reach into the phone and hug Livie. It’s been seven days and I miss her terribly. I’ve never been away from her for this long. Even while I was in the hospital after the crash, she visited me almost every day.

“Dr. Stayner is definitely unconventional,” I mutter.

“Why?”

I sigh, exasperated, and then tell her what I know she doesn’t want to hear. “He’s a nut job, Livie! He yells, he pushes, he tells me what to think. He’s everything that a shrink isn’t supposed to be. I don’t know what quack school he went to, but I can see why Trent came out of here more fucked up then he went in.”

Trent. My stomach tightens. Forget about him, Kace. He’s gone. Dead to you.

There’s a pause. “But is it working? Are you going to get better?”

“I don’t know yet, Livie. I just don’t know if anything will ever really get better.”

***

Jenny laughs hysterically as a car passes us on the road. “Did you see the look on Raileigh’s face when I belted out Super Freak? It was classic.”

I laugh along with her. “You sure you’re okay to drive?” After I jumped off the hood of George’s truck and tackled one of Billy’s friends to the ground, I knew there was no way I was in any state to get behind the wheel so I gave her my keys.

She waves her hand dismissively. “Oh, yeah. I stopped drinking, like, hours ago! I’m—”

A bright flash of lights distracts us both. They’re headlights and they’re close. Too close.

My body jerks as Dad’s Audi crashes into something, my seatbelt cutting into my neck from the force as a deafening sound explodes in the air. In seconds it’s over and there’s nothing left but silence and a strange eerie feeling, like all my senses are both paralyzed and working in overdrive.

“What happened?”

Nothing. No answer.

“Jenny?” I look to my side. It’s dark now, but I can see enough to know she’s not sitting behind the wheel anymore. And I know we’re in trouble. “Jenny?” I call again, my voice shaky. I manage to unbuckle my seatbelt and open my car door. There’s that saying, scared sober. I know that’s what I am now as walk around the front of the car, keenly aware of the engine’s hiss, and the smoke rising from the mangled hood. It’s totaled. My hands push through my hair as panic rises inside me. “Ohmigod, Dad’s going to—”

A pair of sandals on the ground stop me dead.

Jenny’s sandals.

“Jenny!” I scream, scrambling over to the patch of grass where she’s lying face down, unmoving. “Jenny!” I shake her. She doesn’t respond.

I need to get help. I need to find my phone. I need to …

It’s then that I notice another hunk of metal.

Another car.

It’s in far worse shape than the Audi.

My stomach sinks. I can faintly make out the outline of people in it. I stand and start waving my arms around frantically, without thought. “Help!” I scream. There’s no point. We’re on a dark wooded road in the middle of nowhere.

Finally giving up, I creep over to the car, my heart pounding in my ears. “Hello?” I whisper. I don’t know if I’m more terrified to hear something or nothing at all.

I get no answer.

I lean in and squint, trying to get a glimpse through the broken glass. I can’t see … it’s too dark …

Snap. Snap. Snap … Like stage lights, suddenly a rush of light pours down over the area, illuminating the horrific scene within. An older couple sits hunched over in the front seat and I have to look away, the mess of bloody flesh too gruesome to handle.

It’s too late for them. I just know it.

But there’s someone in the back too. I rush over and peer in to see a broken body with raven dark hair cradled in the contorted door.

“Ohmigod.” I gasp, my knees buckling.

It’s Livie.

Why the hell is she in this car?

“Kacey.” Icy cold fingers grip my heart at the sound of my name. I peer further in and find a tall dark form sitting next to her. Trent. He’s hurt. Bad. But he’s awake and he’s looking at me with an intense stare.

“You murdered my parents, Kacey. You’re a murderer.”

The night nurse, Sara, rushes into my room just as I’m coming to, screaming at the top of my lungs. “It’s okay, Kacey. Shh, it’s okay.” She rubs my back in slow circular motions as a cold sweat breaks out over my body. She continues to do so, even as I curl up in the fetal position, hugging my knees to my chest tightly. “That one was unusually bad, Kacey.” She’s been in here a few times already, during my night time episodes. “What was it about?” I notice she doesn’t ask me if I want to talk about it. She assumes I need to, whether I want to or not. That’s the thing about this place. All they want you to do is talk. And all I want to do is stay quiet.