Mack’s pale blue eyes are round when she murmurs, almost imperceptibly, “How do you know James?” April’s brows draw together. “Who’s James?” “Her ex,” I explain, more confused now than ever. “What do you mean, Mack? I’ve never met James.” She jabs at April’s phone, hand trembling. “That was James in the video.” “You mean Trevor?” April asks. “He’s the security guard on campus.” My heart pounds against my ribcage in the ensuing silence. Mack fights back tears. “That’s James. Trevor James Hobart. When I knew him, he went by James.”
