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In the aftermath, Lennon says, “She's lucky Lily's the only friend she's lost.”

I turn to face Lennon, surprised those horrible words came out of her mouth.

“Lily's dead, Lennon. That's not funny.”

Lennon shrugs. “I didn't say it to be funny.”

It’s another threat.

Then it hits me: Lennon predicted the posts that would destroy Lily's reputation. She'd said they would overshadow my weirdness in art. Now that I know her better, I’d say she was...excited.

She also hadn’t thought it was ridiculous that Lily was being publicly shamed for her relationship with a human. At the time, I didn’t think much about her response—

It’s not that she was sexting, it’s who...

“You posted Lily's texts on Roundtable,” I say.

Lennon doesn't move to deny it and I feel my heart sink further into my stomach. “Why?”

She shrugs. “I had to show her she couldn't trust the Order, just like I had to show you.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX – ANORA & THE BETRAYAL

By last hour, I’m desperate for the comfort of my room. I want to be close to my poppa’s things. I want the weight of his soul around my neck. I think about what he might say if he were here, but I already know: Admit to your mistake. There’s nothing wrong with an apology.

I should never have accused Natalie or Shy of posting my life on Roundtable or accused them of killing Lennon’s mother. In the moment, I’d been so certain standing up for Lennon was the right thing to do, but I was blind.

She’d been behind the posts. That’s why she watched people, learned their secrets. That’s why she was untouchable.

But did that also mean she took my coin and killed Lily? I can’t say, and that makes me afraid.

Instead of going to P.E. where I’ll have to face her, Shy, and Natalie, I head to the library. If I can’t go home, I’ll surround myself with one thing that brings me comfort—books.

The library is quiet, and only a few people turn to stare at me. I head into the stacks, searching for a place to hide and read. As I navigate the maze of shelves, I halt, heart jumping into my throat. A man sits, slumped over in the corner, head resting against his chest. He’s too pale to be asleep. The lights create a shiny spot at the center of his head where his hair has thinned. His arms lay at his sides, both palms up. He’s dressed in a blue checkered shirt and brown pants. He doesn’t have any outward injuries, but he’s fallen in such a way that it looks like he was pushed.

As I stand here, the spirit disappears and reappears inches from where I stand. Stumbling away, I stifle a scream and watch as he plucks a book from the shelf. He leafs through the pages for a moment, before dropping the book, hands going to his chest, which rises and falls quickly. He stumbles back, landing against the wall. His eyes meet mine, round and full of fear. He slides to the floor, breathing fast until his head falls forward on his chest and his arms unfold to rest at his sides.

He’s dead.

I twist to flee and run straight into a body. Pushing away, I come face to face with Thane. With my heart still racing, I can’t keep from cursing.

“God! Why are you always where I don’t want you to be?”

Thane raises a dark brow. “Who pissed in your Cheerios?”

Then he seems to notice the man behind me.

“I see you found Mr. Richardson.”

“You know him?”

“He’s one of the school ghosts. He died about ten years ago from a heart attack.” I shiver. “The rumor is he was found by a couple students who came here to have sex. If you ask me, the faculty keeps that one going.”

Thane says it in jest, but I feel sad for Mr. Richardson. I twist to see him flicker and fade, reappearing a few steps away. The urge to capture his soul rises inside me, like a flower blooming before the first frost. I know it would be a mistake, since I can’t open the Gates, but I also know that the faculty and students who have made him into a ghost story keep him here, bound to this one spot, reliving his death over and over again.

I twist, facing Thane again.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

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