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in Henrietta. There is some place — or places — that I can’t see. Other times, I see” — and here she didn’t look at Blue in such a way that Blue noticed that her mother was trying hard not to look at her — “things I wouldn’t expect.”
    Now Blue was recalling the countless times her mother had insisted that they stay in Henrietta, even as it became more expensive to live here, even when opportunities to go to other towns opened up. Blue had once intercepted a set of e-mails on her mother’s computer; one of Maura’s male clients had ardently begged Maura to bring Blue “and whatever else you cannot live without” to his row house in Baltimore. In the reply, Maura had sternly informed him that this was not a possibility, for many reasons, chief of which that she would not leave Henrietta and least of which that she didn’t know if he was an ax murderer. He had e-mailed back only a sad-face smiley. Blue always wondered what became of him.
    “I would like to know what you saw,” Blue said. “What is ‘nothing’?”
    Neeve said, “I was following the boy we saw last night to his death. I felt it was close, chronologically, but then he disappeared into someplace I couldn’t see. I don’t know how to explain it. I thought it was me.”
    “It’s not,” Maura said. When she saw that Blue was still curious, she explained, “It’s like when there’s no picture on the television but you can tell it’s still on. That’s what it looks like. I’ve never seen someone go into it before, though.”
    “Well, he went into it.” Neeve pushed the bowl away from her. “You said that’s not all. What else will that show me?”
    Maura said, “Channels that don’t show up on basic cable.”
    Neeve tapped her beautiful fingers on the table, just once, and then she said, “You didn’t tell me about this before.”
    “It didn’t seem relevant,” Maura replied.
    “A place where young men can disappear seems quite relevant. Your daughter’s skill also seems quite relevant.” Neeve leveled her eternal gaze on Maura, who pushed off the counter and turned away.
    “I have work this afternoon,” Blue said finally, when she realized that the conversation had perished. The reflection of the leaves outside rippled slowly in the bowl, a forest still, but darkly.
    “Are you really going to work in that?” Maura asked.
    Blue looked at her clothing. It involved a few thin layering shirts, including one she had altered using a method called shredding . “What’s wrong with it?”
    Maura shrugged. “Nothing. I always wanted an eccentric daughter. I just never realized how well my evil plans were working. How late do you work?”
    “Seven. Well, probably later. Cialina is supposed to work until seven thirty but she’s been saying all week that her brother got her tickets for Evening and if only someone would take over the last half hour …”
    “You could say no. What’s Evening ? Is that the one where all the girls die with hatchets?”
    “That’s the one.” As Blue slurped down her yogurt, she spared a quick glance at Neeve, who was still frowning at the bowl of juice, pushed just out of her reach. “Okay, I’m out.”
    She pushed back her chair. Maura was quiet in that heavy way that was louder than talking. Blue took her time tossing her yogurt into the trash can and dropping her spoon into the sink beside her mother, then she turned to go upstairs for her shoes.
    “Blue,” Maura said finally. “I don’t have to tell you not to kiss anyone, right?”

 
    A dam Parrish had been Gansey’s friend for eighteen months, and he knew that certain things came along with that friendship. Namely, believing in the supernatural, tolerating Gansey’s troubled relationship with money, and co-existing with Gansey’s other friends. The former two were problematic only when they took time away from Aglionby, and the latter was only problematic when it was Ronan Lynch.
    Gansey had once told Adam that he was