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She and I talked a lot before she got out of prison about what exactly we would do now. Honestly, I was a little torn about her going back to her old job, for reasons I could never quite articulate. Maybe it’s because I was worried I wouldn’t be able to see her walking around the mansion in her work outfit without thinking of the night she was dragged out by police officers.
But it’s a good job, with good pay and a boss who appreciates her, who went above and beyond to help her daughter when she was arrested.
And she’s adamant about staying in Fox Hill, at least until I graduate. She says she likes this kind of work, and even if she stops working for the Black family eventually, she’s found her calling in managing staff and organizing events.
She takes over for Bri Marshall a week after being released from Fox Hill Correctional Center, and it’s almost eerie how quickly things settle back to normal. I have dinner with her every evening in her little apartment, and Lincoln sneaks into my bedroom most nights, or I sneak into his. His parents know we’re officially dating now, and they know about the other guys too.
I think Samuel Black is proud of his son. Not for the whole sharing thing, exactly—I think he’s still a little weirded out by that part. But for fighting for what he wants, for choosing me.
Samuel and Audrey’s marriage is dissolving, and I think Linc is right that his dad is heartbroken about it. I do feel bad for him, but I can’t blame Audrey at all for her choice. I hope he’ll be more careful with the hearts of the people he loves in the future.
A couple weeks after Mom’s release, Principal Osterhaut invites both of us into his office.
Part of me wonders if it’s just curiosity on his part—a burning desire to meet the woman who’s become fucking legendary at my school by this point. But, as it turns out, it’s for the much less exciting task of talking about my grades. My classwork in every single subject took a major hit at the beginning of the semester, and I’ve only just started to crawl out of the hole I dug for myself.
“We understand that you were going through something very… unique, and because of these unprecedented circumstances, it’s been decided that you’ll be allowed to do makeup work in all your classes to get a chance to bring your grades back up. You were a very promising student your first semester with us, so I have no doubt you’ll be able to make the most of this opportunity.”
Osterhaut leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk and affixing me with a fatherly stare that holds just a slight hint of interest—as if he’s hoping to pick up some little details about the ordeals Mom and I each went through but knows it would be impolite to ask.
Ugh. No way, buddy.
I’ve had to tell the story in
everything from broad strokes to minute detail enough times that I hope I never have to utter a word about it again. Not to Osterhaut, not to reporters, not to any of the wide-eyed underclassmen who’ve staring at me and the kings as if we’re some kinds of celebrities.
“Thanks,” I say instead. “I’ll do my best.”
And I do.
It means that for the second half of the semester, instead of being able to relax and coast the way I feel I’ve earned, I have to buckle down and study my ass off. But I do.
The guys help, quizzing me on Calculus and finding… creative ways to reward me for correct answers. And the honest truth is, being buried in homework still beats being blackmailed by a psychopathic judge by a long shot.
With the spotlight thrown on the five of us after the story about Hollowell spreads, Savannah seems to realize that feuding with us is the fastest route to unpopularity she could take, so she backs off her threats to spill Linc’s family’s secrets or go digging for more dirt on the guys. We end up alone in the girls’ bathroom once right after spring break, and she turns to me, opening her mouth like she’s going to say something. But then she shuts it again and leaves.
I have no idea what she was planning to say. Whether she was going to thank me or find some way to accuse me of being behind the whole thing. But she stops glaring at me in the halls, and if a truce is the best I’ll ever get with Savannah, hey, I’ll take it.
There’s one thing that’s still bothering me though. That’s bothered me ever since the day Hollowell died. Something that takes me weeks to fully process, and even longer to be ready to talk about.
“He saved me,” I murmur one night just before graduation. I’m curled up in Linc’s arms, our legs tangled together as I rest my head on his chest, absorbing the solid, reassuring sound of his heartbeat. “Hollowell. He saved my life.”
There’s a small pause, then I feel Lincoln nod. “Yeah. He did.”
“But…” I lift my head, draping myself over him a little more fully as I gaze at his face in the darkness. “Why? I mean, why would he do that? He’d already killed Iris. He’d already as good as threatened to kill me. And I honestly think he would’ve done it if he had to. So why save me? It was his last act. It was the last thing he ever did.”
Lincoln lets out a sharp breath, reaching up to run his fingers through my hair. “I don’t know, Low. I’ve asked myself that question more times than I can count, and I still don’t fucking know.” His hand halts its motion, his eyes flashing in the dim light. “I hate that motherfucker. I hate him for what he put you through—what he put us all through.”
Then he hauls me higher up his body, banding his arms around me and kissing me hard, like he’s trying to remind himself that he still can. That I’m still here. When we break apart, we’re both breathing a little harder, and I can feel his body shudder lightly beneath mine as he exhales a long sigh.
“But what I’ve decided is this: it doesn’t matter why he did it. Maybe he wanted to do one decent thing before he died. Maybe he was trying to save his own damn soul. Or maybe he just hated Niles D’Amato more than he ever hated any of us. I’ll never get the chance to ask him, so I’ll never know for sure.”
His hands skim up my body, drifting up past my shoulders to thread through my hair again as he cradles my face, holding it just a few inches from his own.
“But what I do know is, you’re alive. And I’m so fucking grateful for that.”
Epilogue
It’s the sunrise that wakes me up.
