Ivy shook her head. "I don't remember it. I don't remember anything from the train station."

Perhaps it would be easier if she never recalled what had happened, Ivy thought. But every time she looked at the photo now, there was a prickling in the back of her mind. Something wouldn't let her look away and forget. Ivy stared until the picture ran blurry. She didn't realize she had begun to cry.

"Ivy… Ivy, don't."

Suzanne's words jolted Ivy back into the present. As she lifted her head her friend crouched down next to the school locker. Her mouth was a grim, lip sticked line. Beth, who had also come back from orientation, stood above her, fumbling through her knapsack for tissues. She glanced down at Ivy, her own brimming eyes reflecting Ivy's tears.

"I'm okay," Ivy said, wiping her eyes quickly, looking from one to the other. "Really, I'm okay."

But she could tell they didn't believe her. Gregory had driven her to school that day, and Suzanne would be taking her home. It was as if they didn't trust her to drive herself, as if they thought that at any minute she'd lose it and steer right off a cliff.

"You shouldn't have that picture taped inside your locker," Suzanne said.

"Sooner or later you're going to have to let go, Ivy. You're just making yourself-" She hesitated.

"Crazy?"

Suzanne smoothed back her mane of black hair, then toyed with a gold hoop earring. She had never been shy about speaking her mind before, but now she was being careful. "It's not healthy, Ivy," she said at last.

"It's not good to have his picture here to remind you every time you open the door."

"But I wasn't the one who put it here," Ivy told her.

Suzanne frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Did you see me do it?" Ivy asked.

"Well, no, but you've got to remember-" her friend began.

"I don't."