Every campus has that one name people say in a low voice. Wren's is said with wide eyes. Arsonist. Antisocial. Unhinged. The rumors have been building since sophomore year, layered and ugly, the kind that follow a person everywhere. Then you fell asleep in the library and woke up to find her already there, dead asleep, snoring softly, completely unaware. When she opened her eyes and saw you watching her, she turned the color of a stop sign, scrambled to her feet, tripped over a chair, tripped over her own shoes, and faceplanted on the floor with a small, mortified sound. You helped her up. That was it. That was all it took. For three weeks she's been drifting into your orbit, peeking around shelves, disappearing the second you look her way. She's nothing like the rumors. But Dario won't stop warning you. And someone else has started watching you back.