My mother rubbed her back in large, circular movements. “I know,” she said, trying to comfort her.

“What happened?” I felt like I was trying to recall something on the tip of my tongue, but the more I struggled, the more I seemed to forget.

“Robbie hadn’t been drinking and he said he knew the way.” Millie was holding back, skirting around something; I could sense it.

My mother cut in, “I got a call to say a young man had brought you to the emergency room. When I arrived they ran some tests and discovered traces of Rohypnol in your system.”

The word fell into the air like a ton of bricks. “R-Rohypnol?” I stuttered. “I was roofied?” Immediately my hands flew to my underwear.

“No, don’t worry,” Millie interjected hurriedly. “He got to you in time.”

“Robbie?”

My mother exchanged a glance with Millie. “No, not Robbie. The nurse said a young man with tanned skin and dark hair brought you in. She says he wouldn’t give his name.”

My head throbbed so hard I could barely think. Where did Nic come into all of this? And why was he being so secretive about his involvement?

“I don’t understand …”

“He told the nurse he found you with a boy who looked as though he was trying to take advantage of you. He raised his concerns and the boy left. Then he brought you here when he realized what bad shape you were in.”

I felt my hand pinch beneath the drip. “Where is Nic now?”

“He was gone when we got here,” Millie answered this time. “The nurse said he stayed for almost an hour, though, while they tried to reach your mom. He wanted to make sure you were OK.”

My mother sat back in her chair and seemed to relax a little. “Millie and I tried to contact the Priestlys, but they’re unlisted. It would be a good idea to have a talk with that boy when we get out of here.”

“So where did Robbie Stenson go when Nic showed up? Was he the one trying to take advantage of me?”

Millie shrugged, her eyebrows knitting themselves together in confusion. “I guess Nic thought he was trying to kiss you. I thought Robbie might have a crush on you, but I didn’t think he’d do something like that when you were so out of it. I mean, you’d vomited twice before you left my house.”

I winced — I didn’t remember that.

“Alex has been trying to call Robbie all morning to find out what happened,” Millie continued. “Maybe Nic just freaked out when he saw the two of you together.”

Memories of how Nic had reacted jealously to Alex at the basketball tournament tugged at my brain, but I was still washed out and confused. I couldn’t remember meeting Robbie Stenson last night, though I had a vague recollection he had been at the party somewhere among the crowds.

“So who was it?” I asked, growing hot with anger. “Who put the Rohypnol in my drink?”

“We don’t know, Soph. You were the only victim, as far as we can tell.” Millie could barely look me in the eye. “Alex says it might have been a cousin of one of his friends. He was mixed up in something like that a couple of years ago. He wasn’t even invited in the first place, and now we can’t track him down.” Millie’s voice turned quiet. She rubbed her eyes, smudging her eye shadow until she looked like a panda. “It’s all my fault, Soph. I’m sorry for letting the party get so out of hand.”

“It’s OK,” I offered, hoping it would ease her guilt. “It could have been worse, right? I didn’t come to any harm.”

“Yes, thankfully,” said my mother.

I clamped my eyes shut and concentrated. I was dancing. I was in the kitchen. I was with Millie. And then, nothing. “I’m trying to remember.”

My mother rubbed my arm. “Sweetheart, the doctor says it’s unlikely you’ll regain your memory of last night. There is a possibility of flashbacks, but they probably won’t have all the answers to what happened. We’re determined to get to the bottom of it, though. The police will want to speak to you now that you’re awake, and we’ll talk to this Robbie boy when he surfaces, too, I promise.”

“We’ll figure it out,” echoed Millie.

I glanced at the needle in my hand and felt a heightened awareness of the cold liquid entering my body, drip by drip. “When can I get out of here? Hospitals give me the creeps.”

As if right on cue, a heavyset nurse with short ash-blond hair sashayed into the room. “How are you feeling?” she asked.

I had the vaguest feeling I had heard her voice before.

“Confused and headachy,” I surmised.

Without looking up, she launched into what seemed like a perfectly rehearsed speech. “The Rohypnol is leaving your system and the worst of its effects have subsided. You’re going to experience residual headaches and possible nausea for another day or two, but after that you should be back to normal. The doctor says you’re ready for discharge when you feel strong enough.”

“I’m strong enough.”

The nurse pulled the corners of her plump lips into a frown. “In the future, I would caution you to keep your drink with you at all times and to have it covered when you’re around people you don’t know well.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but stopped myself. I was furious, but not at her. I was angry at everything: at the person who’d drugged me, at the boy who’d tried to kiss me when I was so out of it, and at Nic for leaving me here with my mounting confusion.