The first message was from my mother. “India, call me when you get in. I want to know how the hospital visit went.”

The second message was from Carmen. “India? I can never reach you. Mom told me about Olivia. What’s going on? Why is Mark involved? Why was she at Martin? Why didn’t you answer your cell?”

I had turned my cell off when I entered the hospital as instructed by the dozen no-cell-phone posters plastered throughout the building.

I did not recognize the third voice right off. “Miss Hayes, this is Detective Mains from the Stripling Police Department. I have some questions I need to ask you.” About Mark and Olivia’s relationship, no doubt. He ended with his phone number.

The final message was an especially cheery Bobby. “I hope Olivia’s okay. By the way, I thought I’d help you out a little bit. I called the guys over in admissions about freshmen head count. Unfortunately, enrollment is down this year, only 554 incoming.”

The machine signed off, and I fell back against the couch, closing my eyes as I considered who to call back, who not to, and how to cause Bobby the most bodily harm.

The phone jarred me awake. It was still bright outside. I glanced at the green ceramic clock hanging above the kitchen counter. Three-thirty. My face felt grimy and my contacts had fused themselves to my retinas. The phone rang relentlessly.

I gave in. “Hello,” I said, fully expecting my mother.

“This is Detective Mains. Did you receive my message?”

“Uh, yes, I was about to call you back,” I lied.

“I see. I’d like to meet with you about Olivia’s case.”