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Tonight, I’m lying awake for hours, thinking about Syn’s eyes. Or more specifically, the look he was giving me with them.
XIII
Tori
My first class of the day doesn’t start until ten, but I’m not surprised that I’ve still not had a response from the dining hall manager about the job before it. Penny, who is also in this Communications class, is sitting beside me in the small classroom, lost in TikTok as I type out a polite email to the manager, letting her know I’m serious about wanting the job.
“I’m not kidding, it happened right here on this campus. My mom didn’t want me to come here until Daddy told her the murderer had already been caught and there hadn’t been a single crime reported in the three years since.”
At once, my email is forgotten when I look over my shoulder at the two girls taking seats a few rows behind me. It’s early, and there aren’t many people here yet. Both are wearing uniforms, but their skirts are much shorter, and instead of a shirt, they’re wearing a cute vest top.
These two were at the Welcome Mixer. The girl with russet-brown skin is Monica, and according to Penny, her dad is an incredibly successful media lawyer working for a magazine conglomerate in Manhattan.
The other girl, Ellie, has skin paler than mine and a lot of it is on a show—she’s got a small fan already set up on her desk, aiming at her face. Penny said Ellie’s father is a foreign diplomat, based in one of the Scandinavian countries. She was born there, but still technically on US soil. She was the one whose words instantly caught my attention.
“No, I meant seriously, as in you’ve only just heard about this? My father was super busy because the family kept trying to sue any paper that printed anything about it.” Monica reaches into her bag and pulls out an obviously brand-new MacBook Pro. “There wasn’t a single report or gossip columnist who wasn’t reporting it.” Monica narrows her eyes. “Where did you say you were living?”
“Sweden. And don’t be so surprised. There are so many murders in the states that barely any of them even make the news in Europe unless it’s another mass shooting.”
Monica shrugs, and I see her mouth move, but whatever she responds with, I can’t hear.
“What are you frowning at?” Penny asks. As I look back at her, she glances over her shoulder.
“The point is, it happened here on this campus,” Ellie continues as she pulls an iPad out of her own bag.
“I know. Even my father was surprised. Usually, the students here are of a much higher caliber.”
“A student?” Ellie’s mouth drops open.
Penny glances back at me and continues. “Oh, they’re talking about JP. That’s Syn’s older brother. I told you about it at breakfast yesterday.”
“Yeah, I just…” I shrug. “I don’t really know any of the details. I’m trying to hear what they’re saying.”
My attention goes back to Monica and Ellie, but they’re now busy talking about some hot new teacher.
“He was murdered by one of his friends. With a lame-ass excuse too. Dick. I mean, JP was a nice guy. Nothing like his brother, although his brother was nicer back when JP was alive.” Penny reaches up, running her hand through her hair, fluffing it out. “I remember being at a fundraiser when I was fifteen and meeting JP. He was probably our age at the time, and I don’t know about you, but no one wants to talk to fifteen-year-olds. We were at the same table, but instead of ignoring me, he was chatting about there not being enough female representation in the senate. Which, of course, is true. Said he’d look forward to working with me one day.”
“Really?”
Penny nods. “He was pretty convinced he was going to be President. I mean, it’s in his blood. But he seemed genuine and friendly, and I wouldn’t be mad if he had been President one day. Unlike Syn. I don’t care who the opponent is, I’d vote for the other guy just to keep Syn out of the White House.”
Having finally met Syn for the first time last night, I agreed with Penny. Our encounter still has me feeling uncomfortable, so I sure as hell wouldn’t trust him to run the country.
“The guy that killed him straight up confessed, and now, he’s in prison. Life without parole. He’s lucky.”
“That’s lucky?”
Penny nods, but her attention is now back on TikTok. “New York doesn’t have the death penalty anymore. I know JP’s parents were pushing to have it reinstated, but even if they did, the courts won’t go back and resentence people. Ironic considering JP was against it.” She suddenly frowns and looks at me. “Where do you stand on the death penalty?”
“I think that if a system can’t guarantee the person that they’ve sentenced is one hundred percent guilty, they shouldn’t be sentencing anyone with something so horrible as death,” I say, before I can stop myself.
Pursing her lips, Penny nods. “Honestly, I can’t say that if that had been my brother that I wouldn’t want his murderer to be put to death, especially when he was so clearly guiltyandhe even confessed, but yeah. I can’t say I’m exactly pro-Death Penalty.” She continues and picks up her phone again. “Glad we’re on the same page on that too.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell Penny the truth, but I stop myself. Ultimately, she’s right. Cole did confess. And I have no proof—yet—that he’s lying.
“What do you know about the mur…murder,” I ask, stumbling over the word.
Penny doesn’t seem to notice as she shrugs. “He was a freshman.” She frowns. “Actually, I really don’t know much about him, which probably says a lot more than it doesn’t. I mean, if I knew who he was, he probably would have had a better lawyer.”
