It’s starting to get cold, and I’m wearing denim shorts and a tank top. I didn’t plan on being outside tonight. “Henry?” I call out. But the only response is another ding from my phone.
Desiree again.It’s all she ever wanted.
I stare at the words, trying to make sense of them. All Lydia ever wanted was cheer captain? Is Desiree saying what I think she’s saying?
Another sort of chill runs through me. Maybe this is the reason Desiree didn’t want to talk last week; she’s afraid of Lydia. But could she really think Lydia did something to Kennedy in order to take cheer captain from her?
I start to mull over everything Lydia told me at her farm onSaturday. That she thought Kennedy had a secret, and that it might be drugs, so she followed Kennedy. Lydia said she was worried about her best friend. But what if there was another reason she followed Kennedy? What if Lydia was hoping Kennedy was involved in questionable—or evenillegal—behavior, so she could catch her in the act? Then the cheer captaincy would be all hers.
And president of the student council, for that matter. Lydia said she never wanted the position, but she admitted it would look good on a college application. What if her plan was to catch Kennedy and depose her, but the plan failed? So she resorted to other measures. Bloodier ones.
It’s a stretch, for sure. And I know Desiree even less than I know Lydia. Still, Desiree is the first person from school who hasn’t tried to pin this murder on an Abbott brother.
At the thought, I remember that I’m supposed to be looking for one of those brothers right now. Instead, I’m standing in the dark, my only source of light this phone and the wash of moonlight trickling through the foliage. “Henry?”
I take a breath and click on my phone’s flashlight. The gardens are expansive, containing a literal hedge maze. It’s easy to get lost even in broad daylight. “Adam?” I try as I find footing on a cobblestone path. The overgrown grass and flowers tickle my ankles. “Emma?”
Something scratches my bare arm, and I jump, causing my nearly full drink to splash over my shirt.
Letting out a growl, I abandon the drink on the path and shinemy light at whatever brushed me. I find myself at the opening of the hedge maze. Tilting my phone, I let the light cascade down the dark corridor. As much as I want to avoid it and keep walking, it’s exactly the type of place Adam would take Emma—maybe even lure her—in an attempt to impress her. Unlike me, the boys have been through this maze thousands of times and have memorized the way.
“Henry?” I call out again. But there’s no answer, so I call him on my phone. He doesn’t pick up. In fact, I don’t even hear the ring. Maybe Henry and the others went a different route and are already back inside.
It’s stupid of me to worry about Adam. I know him.
And yet…I can’t ignore what he underlined inFrankenstein. I can’t ignore his hatred of Dr. Russo.
Or that photo collage hidden in his room.
My heartbeat is like bullets firing in my chest. I take one step closer when a voice calls out, “What are you doing?”
I spin around, shining my light into the figure’s face.
“Stop that!” the voice squeaks now. I lower the phone and squint into the dark to find Sage shielding her eyes.
“You came,” I say, not quite believing it. After all, Sage’s family is convinced that the Abbotts had something to do with her cousin Mariana’s death.
“Yeah, and then you weren’t even there. The broody one said you were out here. What the hell are you doing?” She glances around the gardens, shoulders tucked in close.
“Uh…” I can’t admit to Sage that I’m searching for Adambecause I might not trust him. I can’t tell her I might agree with her and the rest of this town that he’s dangerous. “Hedge maze hide-and-seek. Henry’s out here somewhere.”
She stares at me like I’ve lost my mind.
“I’m surprised to see you,” I say, leading her away from the maze.
She crosses her arms. “I’ve been a dedicated member of the student council since freshman year. I’m not going to miss our first party just because some of the members might be murderers.”
“Right,” I say, looking down at my shoes as I scrounge for words. “Do your parents know you’re here?”
“Of course not. I’m risking everything to be here.”
“That’s uh…sobraveof you.” Or is it? A little insect of suspicion buzzes at my ear as I recall how devious Sage could be back in elementary school. Righteous acts like writingTodd Ellison still wets the bedon the whiteboard while everyone was at recess, in retribution for him calling a girl in our class a “fatty.” At the time, it earned my admiration and made me want to be Sage’s friend.
But now, my defensive instincts are kicking in. She’d better not be planning some way to humiliate the brothers in front of the entire student council.
“Yeah,” she says, “but necessary, you know? Without Kennedy here, I feel like I should keep an eye on things. Lydia is so green. She might need my help.”
I resist the urge to remind Sage that it’s a party and not a gathering in the Situation Room. “Good thinking.” Except I’m now realizing that Sage lost the student council president race to Kennedy;she probably can’t help but feel jealous that Lydia gets to slip in and take it. “Just uh, be careful with Lydia,” I say before I can help it.
