“Stop right there!”
Embry spun from where Rye stood, only inches away, and raised her hands in surrender.
Valentina blinked at her, shock climbing the dorm manager’s features as she took in the scene. One that very much looked as if suspended head prefect/current murder suspect Embry Woodcross had snuck onto campus and into her room to collect and destroy evidence.
It took every acting skill Embry had learned in the last three years to ensure she wouldn’t hint at Rye’s presence. He was so close, she realized she could feel his breath against her cheek. Though Embry couldn’t see him, she knew he’d frozen, too. She silently pleaded with Rye to sneak toward the window rather than do as he always did and stand beside her.
Valentina’s brows scrunched together. “Embry? What on earth?”
Before Embry could produce a reasonable answer, the hallway filled in behind the woman, students stumbling from their rooms.
If she hadn’t already gone through the abject humiliation ofhalf the student body turning on her over Oakley’s dead body, this would’ve been absolutely devastating. But long gone was the girl everyone looked at as queen bee of Raven’s Head. Standing before them was Embry Woodcross, the dictionary definition of the mighty fallen.
Embry watched Valentina’s face, waiting for condemnation. Yet she caught a whiff of rosewater perfume and was comforted knowing Ames was there. Probably Fairfax, too.
“What’s going on here? Move aside, move aside! This room was locked for a reason!” Headmaster Martinelli’s voice grew louder as the congregation of students parted like the waters of Ravenwood Harbor for the arrival of Hiram Woodcross all those centuries ago. “I pop into the admin building for hawk biscuits and someone breaks down the door to a suspended student’s room? I can’t believe the audacity of—Valentina?”
The headmaster shifted her attention from the dorm manager to who the dorm manager was looking at. “Miss Woodcross.”
Not a question.
Martinelli’s features settled into the same tenor of anger that tinged her voice as she’d stated Embry’s name.
“Headmaster, I can explain—”
“I’ll bet you can.” Embryfeltthat statement like a slap to the cheek. “I vividly recall sitting in my office, pleading with you not to interfere with the investigation into the murder of Oakley Riddle. And yet, here you are, Miss Woodcross, just you and your sense of entitlement, tampering with the contents of your room, which we have not yet been able to search because of frivolous obstruction from your personal team of lawyers.”
An audible murmur rose from the students lined up in the hallway. Some shuffling of hands covering mouths. Embry’s heart dropped, her knees softened, and tears fluttered in her vision as shame rolled over her in a wave.
If she’d thought her reputation couldn’t get worse, she was sorely mistaken. Wishing Rye wasn’t witnessing this, Embry sniffed—she would not cry here. If Martinelli noticed her wet eyes, it didn’t register as her expression hardened into a patchwork of dissatisfaction.
“Miss Woodcross, to say I’m disappointed is an understatement.” Martinelli’s nostrils flared as she barked an order to the dorm manager. “Valentina, shut that damn window and then call the Riddle murder task force and request the presence of Inspector Brown.”
Embry spoke past the lump forming in her throat. “Headmaster, you should leave the window open. They’ll want it for evidence of how I entered.”
Martinelli frowned, considering it. Embry held her breath.
“Fine. Yes. Leave it open. I’ll stay with Miss Woodcross as we wait. Go, go, Valentina.” Then she turned to the gaggle of onlookers. “As for the rest of you, please respect curfew and our ongoing investigation, and return to your rooms in an orderly fashion.”
As Headmaster Martinelli swung her arms at the sluggish crowd, Embry gently swept her hand to the side and connected with Rye’s invisible body. Under her palm, his forearm was solid, and strong from all that time in the eight-man boat with Fairfax.
Even now, even through this whole shitty sequence, she couldn’t deny her love of a shapely forearm.
Locking away that ridiculous line of thought, Embry gave a barely perceptible squeeze and nudged Rye toward the open window.
She didn’t dare say the word, but the directive was obvious:go.
If Rye waited for the investigators to arrive, the spell would wear off. Even if he hid under the bed, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t be found out.
This was Embry’s mess alone.
Rye had to know that. He had to accept that.
The best way for him to help now was to be with Daddy and figure out the path forward.
Martinelli was waving her arms more furiously now, as the students finally unclogged and moved down the hallway. Embry made eye contact with Ames, registered a supportive nod from her very best friend, and felt as Rye shifted beneath her palm, wrapped his fingers around hers for just the barest of moments, and then simply vanished.
Relief flooded Embry’s system, the rolling wave of it so strong, she had to grit her teeth to avoid a lift in her expression.
