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“Well, I hope you don’t say something like that about the boy’s funeral. It’s being kept very private, which is understandable under the circumstances.”

“What does that mean?”

“No one who isn’t on their list can attend it at the church. You can understand how people would come just to gawk at them, and don’t forget all the paparazzi who would haunt them. It would be so disrespectful.”

“Then I won’t be able to go?”

“Would that be wise anyway? I mean, under the circumstances?” she asked softly.

The food caught in my throat. She was saying that Ryder’s parents might hold me somewhat responsible. I drank some water, glanced at Mrs. Duval and Mrs. Caro, both of whom looked as if they would break into tears, and then I finished the last bite of the sandwich and stood up. Everyone was watching me. I started to turn away to walk out, and then I stopped and looked down at Jordan.

“Would it be wise for the only person here who cared about him to be at his funeral? I don’t know. You figure it out,” I said, and left the kitchen. It was like walking out of a funeral, anyway. That’s how deep and dark the silence was in my wake.

When I was back in my room, I thought about all Jordan had said. I didn’t like doing it, but I realized that the only way to find out what was happening was to call Jessica. Yes, she could be the biggest gossip and very annoying at times, but she did look up to me, and she did have the fastest route to the best entertainment sources.

“Oh, Sasha,” she said when she knew I was on the phone, “I was so worried about you. All of us were, especially when you wouldn’t let us visit. Who could have possibly imagined that someone like that would commit—”

“What do you know about his funeral, Jessica?” I asked quickly.

“His funeral?”

“Don’t pretend you haven’t asked Claire about it all.”

“No, I did. I was hoping that maybe you would call me and I would have information you might want.”

“I do want.”

“The church service is at St. Luke’s on Monday, but their publicist is preparing a limited guest list. They’ll actually have someone at the door at a desk checking off names, and they’ve hired private security to enforce it. No one from any newspaper, except a few of their friends in the entertainment press, will get into the service. What they can’t stop is people going to the cemetery.”

“What cemetery?”

“Cypress Park, near Ojai. Everyone’s surprised at the choice. There are no famous Hollywood people buried there and—”

“Tell me the truth. Are any of you leaving school to go to the cemetery?”

Jessica was quiet for a moment. “Well, we thought that since we did know him, even for a little while, we might.”

“You just want to see movie stars, right?”

“Oh, no, no. Well, some of the others might go there for that reason, but you know I won’t. Do you want to go with me?”

“No, thanks,” I said. “I’m not sure I’ll return to school on Monday.”

“I’ll pick you up at home, and we can go to the cemetery together.”

“No, I don’t think I’ll do that.”

“Oh? Can you tell me what happened? I mean, where did you go, and what did you do? I heard rumors, but no one seems to know exactly what happened.”

“Even Claire?”

“It’s like top secret.”

“Then we had better keep it that way. We don’t want to endanger the country,” I said. “Thanks for the information.”

“Sasha—” she started, but I hung up. She sent me an e-mail soon after to offer again to take me to the cemetery, but I didn’t respond.

Later, Jordan came by to ask me the same thing Donald had: would I like to go to dinner?