Page 96 of The Unravelings

A preliminary investigation by the Fire Marshal has ruled the fire accidental, attributing it to faulty electrical wiring. Officials have noted that the home was an older structure and showed no signs of foul play.

A memorial service has been planned at Greenwood High for Espie, Sophia, and Olivia Viotto. Everyone is encouraged to come out and show their support for the three women lost to the unforgiving flames.

A funeral service will be announced at a later date and will take place at Greenwood Cemetery.

I barely contain the tears streaming down my cheeks. I choke back the sob begging to spill from my throat and shake my head.

Accidental. No foul play. Three bodies.

How is that even possible when I’m sitting right here?

I know they’d never report what truly happened, but to sit here and stare at Franco’s ugly, lying face as he reminisced about our family has my stomach turning more.

What an ugly thing to do to a mother and her two daughters. To watch the life drain from their eyes as you stab them and let them bleed out.

Nathaniel Franco better count his days. I swear to all things holy, I’m going to bring his empire to its knees and rid the world of the trash.

I close my laptop with the answers I dreaded sitting heavily on my shoulders. Maybe I shouldn’t have searched. Maybe I should have kept my head buried in the sand and…

No.

I wanted answers. Well, I’m getting what I wanted. Kind of. There’s still more mystery out there. More to discover. So I’ll continue investigating Franco and his heirs. I’ll continue getting close to them and hopefully make it through their intimations. Then, the real games start.

Whenever that is.

Checking the time, I’ve only wasted thirty minutes, so I decide to work on the group project I have with Mack and Wilder. They may not be able to look through the only copy of the evidence, but I am. I want to dive into this case anyway. It may be an unsolved case I can solve for the community. Too soon, I’ll have to study with them, and I want to be prepared for our investigation. Plus, it’ll take my mind off the pictures Simon took, and the conversation I had with Malic that I can’t remember, and the past creeping up behind me with a knife.

You know, the usual for me. Ugh. My life is way too complicated. I need a damn vacation after this. Jonathan had better send me to a deserted island so I can binge-watch TV shows, eat popcorn until I want to puke, and sleep for a year.

Too much stress is not good for the body.

Rubbing my temples, I blow out a slow breath and grab my phone. I find myself staring at the pictures Simon sent to Jordy again. Disgust rolls through me at the sight of my flushed face, glazed-over eyes, and my recording glasses resting on top of my disheveled head.

“I wish I could remember,” I groan to myself, rubbing my temples again. I’ve only been this drunk and blacked out a few times in my life. This is ridiculous. I don’t understand how I keep doing this to myself. Why do I let alcohol keep getting the better of me?

At least this time, I have an option to watch whatever I got up to last night. I run my finger over the picture, circling the glasses on top of my head. At least, I hope so. Hopefully they weren’t perched on my damn head the entire night. Reaching over, I feel for my glasses on my desk and stop cold when my fingers find nothing.

My heart completely drops into my ass when my eyes connect to the empty spot where my glasses are usually charging.

“Fuck,” I hiss. “Where the hell are my glasses?”

My blood runs cold as I tear apart my room, looking for my glasses. An important part of my disguise. The very glasses that record every step I take, every breath I breathe, and all the people I talk to. Sending the footage straight to the Veritas IT department, where they store it for investigations.

Fuck my fucking life.

I throw my head back, staring up at the white ceiling with my heart in my throat. I run my fingers through my short, shaggy hair, attempting to remove the worry.

But nothing can take away the dread building in the pit of my stomach, roaring up my throat, and choking me. My glasses are nowhere in sight. Gone. Disappeared. Vanished into thin air.

Okay, not so thin air.

They’re somewhere. Maybe around the dorm? In the living room? On a chair? Maybe I’m Dr. Seuss, and they’re everywhere.

I blow out a breath, trying really hard to extinguish the anxiety crawling on my skin like tiny ants marching all around. It grows and grows like a fire brewing beneath my flesh until it’s a full-blown inferno taking over my mind. I went to a party last night. A party that I shouldn’t have gotten drunk at. A place where I let loose when I shouldn’t have.

Hello, Drunk Olivia, I’d like to introduce you to the consequences of your drunken actions.

Or however that saying goes.