“Nick Levil,” she said, “loved Shakespeare.” I held my breath. When had Jessica talked to Nick’s family? Why had she? Did she do it without me on purpose? I squinted at the bench. Sure enough, Nick’s name was there, last on the list of victims. I made a small noise in the back of my throat and covered my mouth with my hand. This time I couldn’t keep the tears from falling, especially when she dropped Nick’s old battered copy of Hamlet, the one he’d read passages of to me so many times, into the time capsule.
