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“Then they killed her,” I said in a hollow voice. “Their own daughter.”
“That’s right. They also did their best to make you think you did it,” Mr. Blythe said. “You were completely out of it on the drugs, as planned. Hallucinating and gibbering. They repeatedly told you that you did it. Told you that Cerina deserved it. Told you she needed to pay for everything she’d done to you. Then they put the knife in your hand.”
“But it didn’t work. I always knew I didn’t do it,” I said.
“The rest of the world will never know that,” he replied. “Not after today. That note you wrote will convince even your most staunch supporters that you were guilty.”
“I know,” I murmured. The thought of my mom and Jax reading the fake suicide note was like a dagger plunging into my heart.
“Is that all?” Mr. Blythe asked.
I coughed to clear my throat. “No. I want to know about you and Cerina. Were you lying when you said you didn’t have an affair with her?”
“No. I might be young, but I’m not interested in high school girls. I prefer women my own age.”
“But youwerefriends with her, right?”
“I pretended to be when I realized she might be on the verge of betraying the PTO, like I told you earlier. I’m not sure that counts as friendship.”
“Did you like her?”
Mr. Blythe was silent for a moment. “Sure,” he finally said. “She was smart. Funny. Determined. Nicer than she let on to her fellow students.”
“If you liked her so much, how could you turn around and stab her in the back the way you did?” I asked. My voice had thickened, betraying the emotion bubbling up my throat. “How could you let her die like that?”
“I didn’t want her to die, Kinsey. I don’t wantyouto die either. But sometimes things have to happen for the greater good.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I just don’t get it,” I said in a low voice. “How can you stand to take part in all the horrible stuff the PTO does? What the hell do you get out of it?”
“The same thing we all get out of it,” he replied. “Money. Prestige. Power.”
“But you hurt kids! You ruin their lives. Traumatize them. All for a bit of money. How can you think that’s worth it?”
“It’s not just a bit of money,” he said. “Believe me, I felt bad when I first learned of the whole scheme, but then I realized the benefits far outweigh the costs.”
“The human costs, you mean.”
He sniffed. “Yes, I suppose so.”
“You seriously have no soul,” I muttered. “None of you do.”
“If you say so.” Mr. Blythe was beginning to sound bored. “Anything else you want to ask?”
I squinted through the rain again. We were nearing the promontory, which meant my time was almost up, but if I managed to keep the conversation going for a while longer, I might be able to figure out an escape plan.
At this stage, I doubted that I could manipulate Mr. Blythe into letting me go—he was clearly too dedicated to the PTO to ever betray them—but I could probably struggle enough to push him off the cliff instead of plummeting over the edge myself. It wouldn’t be easy, but it was worth a shot. Anything was when it came to survival.
“How many people know?” I asked in a low voice. “How many of you are willing to let me go down in history as Cerina’s murderer when you know I’m totally innocent?”
“The entire PTO is in on it,” he replied. “But I think you already know that. You’re just trying to buy time again, because you know we’re getting close to the edge.”
The temperature around us had dropped, and the wind was coating my skin in a fine mist of brine from the nearby ocean. Mr. Blythe moved his hand to my arm and stepped ahead, yanking me behind him.
“W-wait.” My voice was shaky with panic now. “I… I still have more questions!”
“Time’s up, Kinsey. You remember the deal.”
“But—”
