She gave me a halfhearted smile. “So we sent him a breakdown of the rituals and the club lists and stuff, and then Micah and I celebrated. It was going to be phase one. Everything was perfect.”

“Until?”

“Until I kissed him. Even that was perfect, at first. And then I did something wrong, or got aggressive, or I don’t know what.” She pulled away from me, but kept her face cast downward. “He pushed me away. I fell on the floor. He started shouting at me. Terrible things. Awful things. He said I’d been ruined…that the…Diggers had…ruined me.” She looked at me. “Amy, I was kissing him. That’s all. He didn’t even want to kiss me. What’s wrong with me?”

Where did she want me to start? “Nothing is ‘wrong’ with you. Not like that anyway.” It wasn’t necessary for me to be explicit about how many issues her boyfriend had, was it? “Do what you want: Drink or don’t. Have sex, or don’t. It’s up to you. Nobody I respect judges you for it.”

“After he left, I didn’t know what to do. I was crying like…like I’ve never cried. I couldn’t take it. And I didn’t have anywhere to turn. I don’t have friends who aren’t Micah’s—not anymore. I couldn’t go to you guys, not after what I’d done. And to listen to Micah, God hated me, too. I was all alone. So I ran.”

“Here.” I looked at her. “Why not home?”

“Right,” she said, lifting her head. “My parents would be so thrilled to learn I was upset because my attempt to seduce the boy they hated and thought was turning me away from the Church after the two of us conspired to ruin the possibly Satanic secret society I’d joined had backfired. That would go over beautifully.” She bit her lip. “I don’t know if you noticed, Amy, but my folks are a little controlling.”

I stared at her. “How do you know I talked to your folks?”

She smirked. “Please. I’ve had my home phone tapped for years. That’s how I knew you were looking for me.”

Would wonders never cease? “Of course I was looking for you! I thought something terrible had happened to you. That note on your computer screen…”

“Yeah.” Her expression turned sheepish. “That was the idea.”

“Why?”

“Because I wanted to see if he really loved me. And the answer is—he doesn’t.”

“What if the police had gotten involved? Jenny, you could be in big trouble.”

“I know. And I know now that I wasn’t thinking very clearly. I’ve had the last few days to calm down.”

“And I’ve had the last few days to freak out.”

She dipped her head again, but there was no hair to fall in her face. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t know how to make it up to you. I don’t expect any of you to ever forgive me.”

“That’s good. Keep your expectations nice and low,” I said.

She blew her nose again. “I don’t know what I’m going to do now. Everything is so screwed up. I’ve been praying a lot. I even went to church. Catholic church. Took communion. Haven’t done that in a while.”

“Why not? Oh, wait, let me guess, Micah doesn’t like it.”

Jenny banged her head a few times against the back of the booth. “I’m such an idiot. I’m such an idiot. Why?”

“I’m going to assume that’s rhetorical. We all turn into idiots in matters of the heart.”

“How about matters of the soul? All this time, I thought everything Micah was teaching me was bringing me closer to Christ. I really believed that. But now I think I’ve let Him down.” (I’m assuming the capital here.)

I put my arm around her again. “I think He can handle it.”

“Yeah. But can I? I’ve been going crazy these last few days.”

“These last few days?” I slid my eyes toward her. “You have an apartment under a false name. I think you went crazy a while ago.”

“That’s fair.”

“And your hair? Why did you do that?”

“Leviticus. Absolution.”

Um, whatever. “I don’t know if anyone in the club will accept it as a peace offering.”

She knit her brows. “I didn’t mean it for the Diggers. I sent it to Micah.”

“It was on the front step of the tomb this morning, in an envelope—” I broke off. “God dammit.” I cringed and looked at Jenny. “Sorry. But I bet I know who left that thing on our porch this morning.” I pulled out my cell phone. “I’m calling Josh to ask if he can peel that address label off the envelope and see if Micah’s address is underneath.”

“Trust me, it is. Sneak move of his, though.” She put her hand over mine. “Don’t contact Josh yet. I’m not done with the story.”

“I just want to tell him to call off the dogs of war. You’re safe and…well, if not sound, then at least on your way there.”

“Eh, I’d let that go for a minute. We’re going to need those dogs.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“The unwilling patriarchs, chasing us down? Going through your dorm room and mine? Coming into the city?”

“Right. They’re looking for you, to make you pay for releasing that information.”

“Not exactly. I mean, I’ve no doubt they’d like to pay me back. But I don’t think that’s what they’ve been looking for. They want to know if I know what I know, and if I’ve told you.”

“What do you know?”

Jenny sneaked a peek at the rest of the room. “Not here.” She signaled for the check and threw some money onto the table. “Amy, it really means a lot to me that you tracked me down.”

“Why? I’m pretty pissed at you, remember? I mean, all of this huggy stuff aside, I’m still furious at you for everything you did.”

“But you also cared whether I was alive or dead. Which is more than I can say for anyone else. If I’d called you earlier this week, I bet you would have been there for me, no matter how mad you were. You really believe in your oaths, don’t you? You believe we should love each other.”

“Sometimes,” I said. “But I wouldn’t start preparing the application to beatify me just yet. Mostly, I think we should try to keep each other safe from danger.”

“Well, you found me. So right now, you’re my best friend.”

“Poe found you, too,” I reminded her. Fines, at the moment, were a bit moot. “Believe me, he’s been working his ass off. Why can’t you trust him?”

She pulled on her coat. “After what I’m about to tell you,” she said, standing, “you won’t trust him, either.”

I hereby confess:

Confession, barbarian

or otherwise, is good

for the soul.

This time, the super merely gave me a curious look as Jenny swept us past him and up the landing. “Everything okay, Miss Lovelace?”

“Fine,” she called.

“I still can’t get over the idea that you have another alias,” I said, as we climbed the flights.

“I’ve even got a few more online.”

“You’re a mystery, Jenny. I don’t understand why all the pretending.”

“You get used to it, I guess. I grew up on computers, where no one was who they said they were: not their age, or gender, or nationality, or name. Nobody knew who I really was except for kids at school or church. When I sold my software, they didn’t even know I was fifteen until we were so far into the deal they couldn’t back out. They didn’t know I was a girl either, for that matter. After a while, it seemed weird to use my real name for anything. You’re so vulnerable. Everyone knows your business. It’s impossible to stay off the grid, but you can reduce your presence.”

And somewhere between her cyber-background and her strict upbringing, she started hiding more and more of herself away. How come none of us had seen this? “But you have property under a false name—is that even legal?”

She frowned outside her door. “I don’t know. Maybe I should ask my lawyers. I just assumed they had it covered. I don’t think I own the property under the false name. I think my alias is ‘renting’ from myself. Whatever. I let the lawyers handle the paperwork.”