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“I might have something.” Max jogs to his bunk, gripping his towel to stop it from unraveling. After rifling through his rucksack, he returns with a Chaser chain equipped to hold fourcharms. Sheepishly, he explains, “I stole it from Peablossom’s desk.”
While Peggy and Max dress in uniform, I hack the chain in half and clamp a gemstone onto each. I make holes in Geraldine’s pocket with my dagger and securely weave in the chain. When it’s Peggy’s turn, she tries not to look ungrateful but can’t hide her bitterness.
“I don’t blame you for hating me over this,” I murmur as I fix her chain to her pocket. “I’m living in a castle while you’re here. I get it.”
“Honey,” she says, voice tight. “I don’t mean to be rude.”
“It’s okay. Send your bitterness my way, then at least it’s not directed at trouble.”
“Maybe you can tell us more about your home later?” she asks hopefully.
“Of course.”
I give the room a puzzling glance, remember the figure who collided with me, and realize how close I came to apprehending the culprit. My mind scrambles over the memory to hunt for evidence of their identity. Besides knowing he’s male, a heavy breather, and clumsy, I have nothing. It happened so fast.
“Details are important,”Rory once told me.“Scour every corner twice. Commit it to memory.”
Shaking off my self-deprecation, I start combing the room for clues.
“Don’t bother,” Geraldine says. “The assassins are different every night. Sometimes there’s more than one. We know it’s the Shadows. It has to be.”
“This is completely unfair,” I growl, refusing to stop my search.
Bloody footprints leading from the bunk are more prominent than mine. Before I lift Bob’s sheet, my consciousness peels away, distancing itself from what happens next. For five years, Iavoided this feeling. It’s the part that took over when Nero made me murder, touch dead flesh, and reanimate.
But I must look at everything, even the parts that make me uncomfortable. The clue could be in the wound patterns. Could be anywhere.
I lift the sheet.
For the first time in my life, disassociating doesn’t work. In every wound, every drop of blood, every line of Bob’s body, I feel his pain. Biting my lip, I force myself to finish the job.
With each inch studied, I let the hate in. This was not a quick death. This was not clean. It was cruel, pointless, and completely preventable if I had been here. The stab wounds are sloppy and fast but brutal. They hit no vital spots. His body is still warm. He would have woken and bled out, knowing exactly what his fate was.
I would have been here if I hadn’t stopped to talk to Fox.
Just before I recover his body, a strip of red that doesn’t belong stands out in the blood pooling at his throat. Slowly, I pick it up and know exactly who I crashed into. The heavy breather from Burn After Reading. If Fox had allowed Cait to burn my memories away, I might never have known Ryder killed my friend.
As I stand, I kick something white and wispy on the floor into a pool of blood. My hand snaps out to save it from destruction. Wobbly handwriting on paper. “Bob’s Theories, Part One.”
“You should write all your theories down, Bob. I’m sure they’d make for interesting reads.”
“Good idea. Maybe Peg can help me.”
He took my advice.
A tear spills from my eye. I crush the paper so hard that blood leaks from my fist. It takes me a long, painful moment to rein in my emotions. When my courage returns, I find Peggy and Maxwatching Geraldine gaping at her reflection in the mirror behind the door. She touches her face in awe. “The scars are gone.”
Your scars are what make you beautiful.
I’d almost forgotten Fox said that to me when he thought I was sleeping. Swallowing, I hold the words dear to my heart and walk up to them. “You were already beautiful, Geraldine. You all are. If they can’t see that, then that’s their problem.”
She frowns, almost as if she’s summoning the courage to tell me I’m wrong.
“I know this stupid exhibition tells us otherwise,” I continue. “And I know giving you this charm strengthens their claim. But I don’t give a fuck what they think. I think you’re beautiful without it.”
“So do I,” Max blurts, his cheeks reddening, but he stands tall. “Furthermore, you’re smart and sexy and inspire me.”
“Max.” Her eyes soften with affection for him.
