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shoulder-length blond hair and small, muscular body clad in fleece jackets and sweatpants, was the one who had flirted and been flirted with. At various times, Sweeney had caught Brad, Jaybee, and Raj all staring at her across the seminar table. Becca was a good student, though Sweeney had decided early on that her intelligence was a result of a lifetime of expensive schools rather than any innate brilliance. When Sweeney had wondered about what Brad and Becca’s relationship was, she had felt a little prick of resentment, that he was much smarter than she was and that he deserved better.
    Jaybee was undeniably good-looking, with a roguish flop of darkauburny hair and dark eyes that always seemed to be flirting. He was lazy, the only member of the seminar class whom Sweeney had ever had to talk to about late papers, but he was so charming that she found herself letting him get away with things that she’d never allow from someone like Ashley. This embarrassed her when she recognized it, and she tried not to think about it too much.
    They were an odd little group, and while she knew that they socialized sometimes as a class, Sweeney suspected that with the exception of Brad, Becca, and Jaybee, they actually had other friends whom they lived with or went out with on weekends. The fact that they had become friends at all was just one of those strange accidents of college.
    “So, how are you all doing?” she asked them.
    No one said anything. Rajiv looked tired, his usually dapper getup downgraded to jeans and a Dartmouth sweatshirt.
    Ashley looked up as though she were about to say something, but thought better of it. Her eyes were red and a bout of crying had eroded the banks of heavy mascara and eyeliner so that you could actually see her light amber eyes. In her grief she seemed younger and prettier.
    Jennifer had decided to keep her emotions to herself. She looked up and met Sweeney’s eyes, then looked away, revealing nothing.
    “Up until the minute I walked in, I was thinking I’d have class as usual,” Sweeney told them. “But I don’t feel like it and I don’t think you do either. Is there anything you want to talk about?”
    No one said anything. When she looked around, she had the sense that they were afraid of her. Even Raj, who could usually be counted on for a smile in her direction, was stony, frozen in a kind of half-slouch, his head bent over his notebook, on which he was doodling small, seashell-shaped designs.
    “It’s just kind of strange, with Brad and all,” Jennifer Jones said quietly.
    “Have you ever had someone you knew well die before?” Sweeney asked, feeling like a shrink.
    There was a long silence and then Jennifer said, “My grandmother.Oh, and this girl I went to boarding school with who slashed her wrists in the locker room.”
    Sweeney flinched.
    “My grandfather died when I was six, but I didn’t really know him,” Ashley added. “And my twin sister died. In the womb. I was in there with her for two months. People say I didn’t really know her, but I can remember her. I remember trying to get her to wake up and she wouldn’t and she just kept staring at me with her cold, dead little eyes.”
    Sweeney was struck dumb and Jennifer and Raj looked horrified. There was a long uncomfortable silence after which Ashley said, “Well, it’s true.”
    Sweeney cleared her throat. “Okay, if you need to talk to anyone, if you’re feeling afraid or depressed or anything, you have my home number and I want you to feel free to call anytime. And don’t forget there are a ton of counselors who are ready to talk to you too. Okay?”
    Afraid, they all nodded and she let them go.

NINE
    DREW PUTNAM HAD BEEN dreading seeing Pam all morning, and when he finally came out of the elevator and encountered her sitting at her desk, looking perky and for all the world like an exotic butterfly surrounded by the jungle of floral arrangements, he felt a flash of panic, an urge to do physical violence