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The absolute terror in his eyes last night made me sick. He left his lamp on and crawled into my bed at some point in the night. I woke with him trembling around me and sweat beading his forehead.
Crosby knew the missing people. He came back eventually, obviously—he was Liam’s roommate before me. So who the fuck is he? What aren’t they telling me?
I hardly slept last night, wondering, thinking, dreading the thought of the monster that slept in my bed just a month ago.
If Liam won’t tell me who Crosby is, Lanston will, even if I have to force it out of him. I scoop a bite of waffles drizzled in syrup into my mouth as I eye Lanston from across the table. He notices and takes a hesitant gulp of his coffee.
He knows we can’t just ignore what we found there.
We have morning yoga in the courtyard together today, so I’ll have to corner him and wring the information out of him.
Lanston waits for me to finish up my breakfast so we can walk to our session together. Things have been weird between the three of us this morning. No one wants to break the silence.
Even so, Lanston gives me a warm smile. It’s nice to have the friendly smile of someone as depressed as I am.
Unlike Liam, Lanston is the mirror image of me. We like all the same things and we both want to die. I wish he was around when I was in high school; we would’ve been best friends. Possibly even more. He’s handsome and thoughtful, someone I could talk to for hours and never feel out of place with.
“Please don’t tell me you’re going to interrogate me.” Lanston wraps his arm around me. He’s tall enough that it rests perfectly across my shoulders. His pale-blue baseball cap is tipped up a bit and his soft brown hair kisses his forehead. The real killers are those beautiful hazel eyes of his.
I smile and shrug. “You knowsomething.”
“How can you be so sure?” He pulls me in tighter and I can’t help but blush. His chest is warm and my hands instinctively wrap around him too. I can’t tell if he’s flirting with me or just being friendly, but I’m not sure it matters.
Liam stares blankly at us from across the cafeteria and stands, walking back toward the dorm wing. When my eyes meet Lanston’s, I know he saw his friend’s empty eyes too. Pain and worry twist his lips with secrets he hasn’t told me.
We walk through the main foyer and out the back exit to the courtyard. The stones are dreary with age. Thankfully it’s dry since the rain finally stopped this morning. We have to use extra yoga mats to keep from getting wet. It’s not a huge inconvenience laying them out, but picking them up afterward is another story.
We each grab two mats and find a spot in the back of the class. The instructor is pretty chill. He knows we’re all a littleoff,so he never cares if we chat or even sleep during the sessions. “The point is to find your peace,” he says every single morning as if we’ll forget overnight.
If only I could find my peace.
Lanston sits down on his mat and stretches out on his back. I start by reaching for my toes and leaning forward until I feel the pressure in my thighs.
“Are you going to tell me?”
He raises a brow but keeps his eyes closed as the sun warms his gorgeous tan cheeks. “Tell you what?”
My jaw clenches. Why is he dancing around this, avoiding it like the plague? I can only assume that Liam’s made him swear not to tell. But they can’t keep me in the dark like this.
“Well… Liam refuses to talk about it.” I shift to lie on my stomach. Lanston opens an eye with interest as he waits for me to get to the point. “Who is Crosby?”
“Not here, Wynn.” His hazel eyes are stern. I open my mouth to protest, but he cuts me off. “I said not here,” he snaps, his tone is sharp and deep.
My heart thumps erratically in my chest and my breath catches in my throat. “W-why?”What the fuck did this Crosby guy do?
Lanston’s forehead beads with sweat. His discomfort is contagious.
I harden my expression and lean in to whisper, “I need to know… You guys are scaring me.”
He glances around us to make sure no one’s looking our way. “Meet me in the greenhouse after dinner tomorrow night. We’ll talk about it then… anddon’ttell Liam.” He seems upset and after staring at me like I’m some tragedy, he stands and picks up his yoga mats.
I watch Lanston walk up to Mr. Bartley, telling him something and handing in his mats before walking back to the manor.
The instructor raises a brow at me like I have answers, so I shrug and lie back on my foam mat, trying to salvage what’s left of my morning class.
I can’t shake the thought that Crosby is a dangerous person, someone that people here don’t want to speak about. I wonder if Yelina knows him too. She certainly seems to know about the missing people from a decade ago.
One thing is certain—I won’t be finding any peace this morning.
