Paco Fuentes," Mrs. Peterson says, pointing to the table behind Mary.The handsome young man with pale blue eyes like his mother's and smoky black hair like his father's takes his assigned seat.Mrs. Peterson regards her new student over the glasses perched on her nose. "Mr. Fuentes, don't think this class will be a piece of cake because your parents got lucky and developed a medication to halt the progression of Alzheimer's. Your father never did finish my class and he flunked one of my tests, although I have a feeling your mother was the one who should have failed. But that just means I'll expect extra from you.

Drake’s dead,” Astrid said. “Dead people don’t come back. Let’s not be ridiculous.”Howard made a derisive snort. “Okay. That’s as far as I go with you on this, Sammy boy.” He made a hand-washing gesture.Astrid slammed her palm on the table, surprising even herself. “Somebody better tell me what all these back-and-forth looks are about.”“Brittney,” Howard said, spitting the name out like it was poison. “She came back. Sam had her and stuck her with Brianna, and told me not to talk about it.”“Brittney?” Astrid said, confused.Howard said, “Yeah. You know, like dead-girl Brittney? Way dead? Dead a long time and buried a long time and suddenly she’s sitting in my house chatting? That Brittney.”“I’m still not…”“Well, Astrid,” Howard said, “I guess we just found the limits of your big old genius brain. Point is that someone who was very seriously dead is suddenly not so dead anymore.”“But…,” Astrid started. “But Drake…”“As dead as Brittney,” Howard said. “Which might be a slight problem, since Brittney isn’t exactly dead herself.