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“I don’t care about Zoey,” I mutter. “I have to go, there’s something I have to do.”
“But Mia… Zoey is up to something, I came to warn you, she—”
“She can go to hell.” I step past her and keep going.
I’ll do what I came to do and go. Leave the Academy behind. Go back home.
You can’t go back, Mia. You have changed. So you can’t return to the garden of innocence.
It’s okay. I’ll go to the city, find a job. Make a life for myself. Avenging my cousin will keep me warm at night.
Will it?
I think of Sindri’s beautiful face, flushed and smiling, of Ashton’s thoughtful frown, of Jason’s wounded gaze, of Emrys’ flashing eyes.
A sob catches in my throat and I hate myself. I hate myself for what I am about to do, to hurt them, but it’s too late for lies and excuses. They know now.
And I have one job.
I see Vanessa and wave at her. She waves back and I hurry toward her, curious gazes following me. I know what I look like—flushed, my lips reddened from kissing, my eyes leaking tears, my hair a nest, my clothes wrinkled. I look like I was in bed with a boy and now he broke my heart—and it’s true, only four times that.
Four boys and only one heart, and I’m trying not to feel the truth, that I’ve broken into a million little pieces.
“Come sit with us,” Vanessa says and gestures at the table where Melissa and Evelyn are already sitting and having their dinner. “Won’t you eat?”
“Not hungry.” I sit across from them, fold my hands on the table to hide their shaking. “Don’t let me interrupt your dinner.”
“…too late for that?” Melissa arches a brow at me. “What’s wrong?”
“Wrong?” I shrug. “Nothing.”
“You’ve been crying.”
“Oh, that. Just allergies.” I put on a smile. “I was wondering if you had any more information for me.”
“About the boys?”
“Well, yes.”
Evelyn glances from Melissa to me and back. “The boys?”
Melissa eats a forkful of pasta, ignoring her. “Vanessa told you about Emrys, I take it?”
“She said he has killed, too. Of all of them, Sindri is the only one who doesn’t seem to be a murderer.”
“You’d be wrong to assume that.”
A chill grips me. “Are you telling me he killed someone, too?”
Melissa doesn’t look at me. “Ah-huh.”
“Who?”
She shrugs.
Something bothers me in all of this. “So according to you, all four boys killed someone each? But you don’t know whom?”
“What do you want, Mia?” She forks more pasta into her mouth, eyes narrowed. “I’ve been telling you all I know.”
