I get home an hour and a half later than usual, but an hour before my parents usually come home. Today, they're already home. The front door is wrenched from my grip as soon as I insert my key into the lock. I look up, startled.

Tears swell in Dad's eyes, and he turns away from the door. But Mom, standing before him and me, who opened the door, has a face like thunder. 'Where have you been, young man?! Do you realise how worried we've been?! Get in here!'

I cross the threshold, retrieving my key. Mom slams the door shut behind me and Dad pokes his teary face around the corner. 'Where is your phone?!' Mom snaps.

I reach into my pocket and hold up my phone. I press the power button. My phone begins turning on. Mom clicks her tongue in annoyance.

'Do you realise the worry you've put us through? We lost one child two nights ago when we didn't know where she was, and then our other son refuses to meet us and isn't at home and doesn't answer his phone! What have you got to say for yourself?! No! Even better! Where were you and why is your phone off?!'

'Sorry, Mom. I didn't mean to make you worry. Dexter invited me and Rebecca over to his for a movie and pizza, to take my mind off stuff. Everyone in school knew about Mill today, and kept saying sorry to me. I had my phone off in school so it wouldn't get taken away, and then off in Dex's for the movie. I'm really sorry.'

Mom sighs. 'I see. Dexter is a good friend to invite you over like that. Did you thank him?'

'Obviously.'

'What movie did you see, buddy?' Dad asks, creeping back into the hall.

'My favourite one,' I say, because I can talk about that and Mom and Dad know that Dexter and Rebecca like it too.

'I made casserole,' Dad calls, hopefully.

'I'm not really hungry, because of the pizza. Can I go do my homework?'

Mom allows it, and I hurry up to my room. I tear a page of paper from a notepad and, clinching my hand, scribble Mill's final message.

Hide, you're in danger.

Dan Geraldson had nothing to do with it. Milly never met him, never knew he existed, just as I never knew he existed. She only used Dan Gerald to get the word "danger".

But why am I in danger? Am I in danger from cars? Am I in danger of being killed by a car, or rather, its driver? No, no, that's not it- everyone who gets into a car or uses the road is in danger of being killed by a car and its driver. That's too broad for a secret message. It has to be smaller.

Hide. What would I hide from? My fears, her ghost? Her fears, maybe? No, no, Mill had no fears- not in public, anyway.

But maybe that's just it. Milly wants me to uncover her fears. How do I do that?

She was going to the midweek shocker. But I've already made one trip to that cinema, and there's no guaranteeing that the teen will be on again. I sigh and take out my homework.

The next morning, three days after Milly's death, I sit chewing my cereal into mush, while Dad repeatedly scrubs, soaps, cleans and dries every surface in the spotless kitchen. 'I have to wonder,' he begins, wringing out the sponge, 'what Milly was doing on the street she was knocked down on, at nearly half eleven at night.' He pauses as he takes a towel back to the counter and dries in circular motions. 'I mean, that street is so far from the part of the city in which we lead our lives.'

I swallow. 'That's true,' I respond. 'But I dunno.'

Mom comes in and sighs loudly. Dad looks up from scrubbing watermarks, visible only to him, from the island. 'Jack,' my mother exasperates. 'stop. Cleaning! The kitchen is spotless, and your hands are chafed and dry! There's nothing left to clean!'

'In here...' Dad mutters, dripping water over the island one last time before coming to sit opposite me.

'Daniel,' Mom addresses me. I look up, swallow, raise my eyebrows questioningly. 'the doctor wanted to ask us if we wanted to donate Milly's organs for transplant. We said yes.'

I smile. 'Great. You made the right decision, Mom. If someone can live because Mill is dead, then it's clearly the right thing to do. Mill would like that.'

Mom lets me go to school with no awkward hug, and Dexter pats my arm when I sit down beside him. People nudge and hiss things, 'See him now?', but I ignore it and let Dexter babble about the victory they won over Shepard College last night, regaining all their looted gold and doubling it with Shepard's stash.

Rebecca smiles kindly at me as I come level with her at school. 'What did the doctor want?' she asks. For a blank second, I stare, forgetting what Mom told me earlier. Rebecca's kind smile fades. 'Sorry. I know you must be sensitive about any mention of Milly. I'm sorry I brought it up- and that my cousin was a dead end.'

I wave her off. Her apology is enough time for me to remember what Mom said this morning. 'Don't worry. Don't beat yourself up about it. Just give me time. I don't wanna talk about it right now.'

'I understand. Take as much time as you need.' Rebecca replies, sadly.

~*~

All day long, everyone, and I mean everyone, in school is exceedingly kind to me. It begins in the morning at the lockers, when I find a big bouquet of flowers has been taped to my door. Between the first and second classes- in which I find I can concentrate again, and actually learn in- a senior bumps into my shoulder, and five people shout after him what a dick and asshat he is. I put my hand in my pocket and nearly run away, my face on fire- and find something there that wasn't there before. When I pull the rectangular object out, I find it's a chocolate bar. The senior slipped me a chocolate bar.

Break comes and goes with a steady trickle of people forming an orderly queue at my locker to give me their condolences and offer their support and friendship and tell that they're there for me. Back in the first year, we all promised we would always have each other's backs, yet only now do people actually offer their allegiance.

Just after break, as I'm rushing to class, I stumble and drop my bottle. As I pick myself up, four people swoop to pick my bottle up for me. The one who gets it puts his hand in his pocket as he approaches me, clearly takes something out, swaps the bottle to that hand and hands it to me, pressing a small piece of paper into my hand as he does so. The crowd disperses as I thank him and run away again. I look at my hand in that class. Money. He gave me money.

The money puts me off. All this kindness stuff- it's sympathy, is what it is. I set my teeth when I remember that the kid who gave me the money gets the bus in the opposite direction to the way I go- to the notoriously poor parts of the city. All these random acts of kindness- I clench my fist. I'll refuse the next one. I will.

In this class, I barely listen. How I'll reject the next random kindness thing swirls in my head so loudly it blocks everything else out. I can't concentrate- not that I would've been able to concentrate without this. My head is also full of "dangerous" suicide notes, pizza with friends and crying red-haired women running away.

The bell goes suddenly, and I jump about a foot in the air, in the process knocking my pencil case, which was on the edge of my desk, to the floor. I sigh heavily and place my hands over my face. I take deep controlling breaths in, and long methodic sighs out. In, out. In, out. In, out.

I tip my head back and gaze at the ceiling tiles as the last few students leave. The teacher is gone too- good. No interruptions. I turn to pick my stuff up.

I blink. My pencil case is back on the desk. I was sure I knocked it off. I look up, just in time to see Jessica, the girl who sits next to me, rushing out. Did she-?

I look down. Pencil shavings lie on the floor. She must have picked my pencils and eraser and parer, and my markers for when we make posters, up from the floor for me.

Was that a random act of kindness because of Mill? I told myself I'd reject the next one. Or was Jessica just being kind the way she's always kind?

You idiot, go and thank the girl!

I pack up hastily and rush to the door, but Jessica and her six friends have disappeared into the corridors teeming with life.

Only they're not really teeming, at the moment. Because you're running late, genius! Go, go, go!

Lunch is a relief, as I have free time, so I excuse myself from my friends and sit outside. It's raining lightly, yet heavily- that light yet constant rain that slowly but surely coats everything in a fine film of water. The most annoying type of rain, which is also useful for deterring condolence-givers and sympathisers. Only the most diehard of sympathisers would venture out in this weather to the dead-sister guy.

But having time alone is only partly my reason for being out here. Whoever ran away from Mill knew her name, her full name- so she has lost someone too. I bet she'd want time alone too, in the rain, where tears mingle with rain and can be hidden.

I turn constantly, checking every possible angle for a glimpse of fiery hair, but for all my searching I find no-one. Only as the bell goes again for the end of lunch do I remember that Mill and her year always had lunch at a different time. I never shared lunch with her.

I trudge back inside, where Dexter steps in front of me. He holds out a piece of paper to me. Hesitantly, I take it, and he turns on his heel and walks away. I open the folded paper.

Dear Daniel,
I've noted how you have been surrounded by people today, so Rebecca and I, knowing you value your privacy, have decided to leave you alone today. This is not to say we don't support you- if you need anyone, come to us. We'll always be here for you.
Dexter.

I smile a little. My friends are good. I should probably ask them for help figuring out Mill's message.

No, actually. No, I shouldn't, and I won't. It's not their sister who's dead.

In the very last class, the intercom crackles into life and the receptionist intones, 'Could Daniel Reiner please come to the principal's office with his school bag.' Every pair of eyes watches me intently as I pack up and shuffle unwillingly down the corridor.

The principal, Ms. Tanner, ushers me into her office and directs me to sit down. I do, swinging my bag off my shoulder to my feet, and Ms. Tanner begins.

'Your sister, Milly Reiner, has not been in school for three days in a row, Daniel.'

Ah. I bow my head. So that's what this is about. 'Yeah... uh...'

'You don't have to explain it to me, Daniel.' Ms. Tanner assures. 'Miss. Mar-' that's the receptionist- 'called your mother, to find out if Milly is sick or something of that nature. Your sister has perfect attendance, Daniel, so three days in a row is unusual. Your mother hung up, and called back ten minutes later. She explained curtly what had happened. A car accident, three days ago.'

It took three days before the teacher's knew. Now the entire school knows. I wonder if "the entire school stares at me everywhere I go" is an appropriate reason for leaving a school.

'Daniel, you may believe teachers have no care for their students, but that is simply not true. Teachers are not blind. All of yours have seen the looks you are receiving, the constant dreamy quality of your stares. That is not like you.'

I shrug. Where's a black hole when you need one?

'Daniel, I would like to offer my sincerest apologies for this meeting being so very obvious, and my sincerest condolences to you and your family. I have never lost anyone, but not everyone is that lucky. I would like to offer you the services of the school counsellor.'

Oh no. I've heard stories of people being unable to escape from sessions with him. Time to locate the ol' vocal cords.

'Ms. Tanner, thanks for the apology, and condolences, I'll pass them on. But I'm fine, really- I can handle it. I've got good friends. They'll help me get over this hurdle.'

'I don't doubt the power of friendship in difficult times, but we'll let the counsellor decide how "fine" you are. I will be calling your parents to inform them of the counsellor sessions. If you do not attend them, I will call your parents. Do you understand?'

'Ms. Tanner, I'm-'

'Do you understand, Daniel?'

'Yes, Ms. Tanner.'

'Good. You will attend the counsellor at lunch each day until he clears you. You may go.'

I grab my bag by the straps and walk out. Outside the door, I pause long enough to swing my bag onto my back, just as the last bell goes. That pause is long enough to hear a strange sound.

Crying. Ms. Tanner is crying.

Ms. Tanner is a member of Mensa, a member of the World Association of Tall People and a lifelong, Hall of Fame awardee, member of the World Association of Terrifying Teachers. And she's crying?!

The bus ride home is long, and I don't speak, though Dexter makes up for that with chatter. The basketball team is doing well again, Rebecca says, but more importantly, much more important, is the fact there is going to be a revised attack on Shepard College again tonight, while their best players are gone on a overnight trip for Geography. Shepard College is helpless, apparently.

As this conversation draws to a halt near my stop, Dexter turns to me. 'Daniel, I'm going to text you every forty minutes, to check how you are. I am not blind. I've seen how quiet you were today, so I'm expecting an answer every forty minutes. If you don't answer, I'll call, and if you still don't answer, I'm coming over. Okay? I'm not leaving your parents childless.'

I smile and wave away his concern. 'Don't worry about me. I'll text you. I won't forget. Thanks man, you're a good friend.' I swing off at my stop and wave to him as the bus pulls away.

He's a good friend. And you're not. You're not letting him help you. He could help!

I hush the inner voice. His sister's not dead. I don't him messing around and taking charge in my investigation.

Has Dexter ever taken charge in anything?

Shut up. I perambulate to my house and head in. The answering machine is flashing away with a new message, and I press the playback button.

'Hello Mister Reiner and Miss Donstream,' Mrs. Tanner says, composure complete. She is used to dealing with my mother. 'I am calling to offer apologies and condolences. Condolences on the death of your daughter, who was a wonderful student, and a great addition to our school, who will be sorely missed, and to apologise for not knowing sooner, and the receptionist here asking so crudely where Milly was. I would like to add that I have instructed Daniel to attend counselling sessions with the counsellor here in school, until the counsellor believes he is of a fit mental state. The counsellor is paid for in Daniel's annual school fees, so no extra cost will be needed. We will refund Milly's school fee for the rest of this year, and if, when the date is set, you could tell me about the funeral? I would like to make an announcement about it, so students who wish to may attend. Of course, if you wish for it to be a family affair, I understand. Thank you, and my apologies again.'

'NO NEW MESSAGES' the robot intones.

With a sigh, I slog up the stairs and into my room. I turn my laptop on and check my emails. I have 593-impossibly. Our- my school numbers 480 students.

But long lost cousins and long forgotten summer camp friends have discovered my and Milly's pages and the news, and are emailing me to let me know they know. I feel guilty seeing emails from Kristof, Ethan, Gail, June and so on. We swapped emails years ago with promises of keeping in touch, and let the contacts gather dust.

I X out of my email and look up 'Hide, you're in danger.' The first five results are about one of those TED talk things, about the danger of hiding who you are or something. The sixth result is about the hidden danger of euphemisms. The seventh concerns hidden sugars, the eighth hiding who you are, the ninth what to do if caught in a mass shooting. I'm not sure if Mill meant any of these in her message. Maybe I'm on completely the wrong track.

I look up suicide notes. Only after I hit 'Search', do I realise what I have just searched. The second most popular entry is the Wikipedia page for suicide notes. The first, third, fourth and fifth entries are collections of actual suicide notes, and I X out of that tab quickly.

I suppose the answer is in the place where Mill spent most of her free time. I need to go into her room.