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Contents
Part I: Uncomfortably Numb
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Part II: The Program
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Part III: Wish You Weren’t Here
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Epilogue—Two Weeks Later
About Suzanne Young
For Lynny and Rich, who have always been there for me
And in loving memory of my grandmother Josephine Parzych
PART I
UNCOMFORTABLY NUMB
CHAPTER ONE
THE AIR IN THE ROOM TASTES STERILE. THE LINGERING
scent of bleach is mixing with the fresh white paint on
the walls, and I wish my teacher would open the window to let in a breeze. But we’re on the third floor so
the pane is sealed shut—just in case anyone gets the urge to jump.
I’m still staring at the paper on my desk when Kendra Phillips turns around in her seat, looking me over
with her purple contacts. “You’re not done yet?”
I glance past her to make sure Mrs. Portman is distracted at the front of the room, and then I smile. “It’s
far too early in the morning to properly psychoanalyze myself,” I whisper. “I’d almost rather learn about
science.”
“Maybe a coffee spiked with QuikDeath would help you focus on the pain.”
My expression falters; just the mention of the poison enough to send my heart racing. I hold Kendra’s
empty stare—a deadness behind it that even purple contacts can’t disguise. Her eyes are ringed with heavy
circles from lack of sleep, and her face has thinned sharply. She’s exactly the kind of person who can get me
in trouble, and yet I can’t look away.
I’ve known Kendra for years, but we’re not really friends, especially now. Not when she’s been acting
depressed for close to a month. I try to avoid her, but today there’s something desperate about her that I
can’t ignore. Something about the way her body seems to tremble even though she’s sitting still.
“God, don’t look so serious,” she says, lifting one bony shoulder. “I’m just kidding, Sloane. Oh, and
hey,” she adds as if just remembering the real reason she turned to me in the first place. “Guess who I saw
last night at the Wellness Center? Lacey Klamath.”
She leans forward as she tells me, but I’m struck silent. I had no idea that Lacey was back.
Just then the door opens with a loud click. I glance toward the front of the classroom and freeze, my
