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I actually sleeping on the floor this close to a boy? I wondered.
    I rolled onto my back and dragged a hand through my own mud-caked curls. They were tangled – knotted, really – and the muscles in my arms ached from the force of the Slip ’n Slide.
    Did last night really happen?
    I felt something strange well inside me. Shame? My dress – which I’d insisted on wearing despite Ryder and Jett’s protests – was crinkly and stiff, and my arms and legs were smeared with beige spatters and grass.
    The mansion was quiet, a jumble of blankets and muddy bodies. Jett and Cody were curled on my left, and Ryder was stretched like a cat on the window seat to my right. The cigarette clutched between his fingers had smoldered into an ash pile beside him, and his head was tipped slightly backward. The shadows below his cheekbones were particularly prominent in the morning light, and faint snores reverberated from his lips.
    He was beautiful. They were all beautiful, but the reality of the evening was so foreign and pungent that it took me a moment to process.
    I had slid through the mud and played with strangers on a Slip ’n Slide. I had laughed and run through a meadow in the middle of the night.
    Although I had turned down the dark liquid in Ryder’s flask, I had secretly relished the feeling of his hand against mine as he tried to pass me the bottle. “You’re beautiful, Red,” he had said, his breath infused with that lovely spiced sweetness. “You really are. You know that?”
    I had pulled Javi down the Slip ’n Slide with me, and I had felt my cheeks color when his gaze lingered on my legs, when he wiped the mud from his forehead and whispered, “I’m really glad we’re going through this together, Autumn.”
    It had all seemed so exciting, so real and invigorating that I hadn’t even blinked when Jett and Cody started kissing. And the thought of sleeping on the floor in the middle of the mansion hadn’t sounded strange. It had sounded daring, like I was really part of something.
    A hard object pressed into my side. I rolled onto my back and dug through the folds of my skirt. Brady’s lion, now damp and bedraggled, left mudstains in the palm of my hand.
    What have I done?
    I was struck by such a debilitating sadness that I nearly doubled over. How can I be here, doing dangerous things with strangers, when Brady is in an urn somewhere? Why do I get to live and be reckless with my Essence when he barely did anything wrong in his whole life?
    I thought of Aunt Marie’s words. Sometimes, sweetheart, you have to decide where your loyalties lie . And mine lie with you and my little sister.
    After all that, had I actually considered abandoning my family?
    I truly am the worst person in the world.
    I pulled myself to my feet. Wiping the dirt clumps from my legs, I checked the sunrise and decided I probably had enough time to get home and get showered before morning meditation sessions began.
     
    The train station was crowded, buzzing with Outsiders in dark suits and tourists with bright jackets and cameras. I stood with my back to the turnstiles, suitcases in hand and my hair still damp from my frenzied morning shower. My long trench coat was buttoned, and its hood was pulled low over my forehead to discourage inappropriate attention.
    “There,” my mother said, approaching from the ticket counter and passing me two plastic cards. “One stop in San Jose, and then on to Los Gatos. Cedar’s brother will be waiting for you at the station.” She pulled the hood from my eyes and smoothed my hair.
    I swallowed and stared at the empty train tracks before us. My entire world felt like it was spinning out of control. I really thought this Los Gatos thing was still open for discussion.
    “I am so pleased you’ve finally come around this morning,” she said. “This retreat’s combination of meditation and self-deprivation is decades ahead of its time, and you will feel so much better once you’ve been freed from the