Page 154 of Wicked Brutal

Right. Sometimes I forget Becca’s childhood was less family vacations and more Theodore dragged his terrifyingly intelligent daughter across half the planet and accidentally created a tiny diplomat.

I swipe. There. Enrollment confirmation. Same name. L’Institut Sainte-Catherine. An address sits beneath it. I read it once. My brain doesn’t process it. I read it again. Vevey, Switzerland.

My stomach drops. No. Fucking no.

“Ryan?” I don’t answer. Ally leans closer. “What?”

Becca reads it over my shoulder. Her expression changes. “Oh, fuck.”

Ally looks between us. “What?”

I lift my eyes to hers. “Switzerland. It’s in Switzerland.”

Her face empties. “My dad is transferring me to Switzerland.”

“That’s what the paperwork says.”

“No.”

“Ally—“

“No, I mean—“ She looks at me. “That’s not another school.”

“I know.” Her hand goes to her stomach. Becca immediately takes her other one. I move closer. “Pretty girl.”

“He’s sending me to Switzerland.”

“He’s planning to.”

“What’s the difference?”

“The difference is he doesn’t know we know.” Her eyes stay on mine. “Roman thinks he walked into Edgewood, signed his paperwork, and left. He doesn’t know you saw him. He doesn’t know I copied every fucking page.”

Becca reaches for my phone. “Give me that.” I hand it over. She starts scrolling. Fast. Not panicked. Reading. Actually reading. Her eyes move over the enrollment paperwork, then the next page. “This is full residential.”

Ally looks at her. “What?”

“Not an exchange. Not a semester abroad where you’re staying with a host family. Residential enrollment.”

“I know what residential means.”

“I know. I’m telling you what they’re saying.” She scrolls again. “This is an authorization for the school to handle routine medical care while you’re there.” Another page. “Academic records. Financial guarantee.” Another. “Travel authorization.” Her finger stops. “Jesus.”

“What?” I ask. Becca zooms in.

“Your passport information.” Ally goes pale.

“What?”

“It’s already attached.”

Becca looks at me. “This wasn’t arranged this morning.”

“I figured.”

“No, Ryan.” She turns the screen toward me. “This is an actual enrollment packet. There are completed authorizations from multiple places. Travel documents. Residential paperwork. Medical paperwork. This took time.”

Ally is staring at the phone. “How much?”