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“You don’t get a say in the matter, Rosita. It’s what Brett would do, if he were here, so we’re going to do it, okay? That will let us keep you safe and maybe we can find some time to get to the bottom of this.”
Chapter 23
The next week was quiet. I was beginning to think that maybe the worst had passed me by. I was excelling in all my classes except for physics and accounting, but it’s not like I was planning to ever need either of those classes once I left Taylor Prep behind.
I wanted to sing, and physics and accounting had nothing to do with my life.
For the most part I was left alone. That all came to a head a few weeks before break.
“Want me to run up to your room with you?” That was Harper, and she was halfway out of her seat before I shook my head and she slowly sat back down.
“Really, I’m fine,” I told her, throwing her a grin.
Harper, Maggie, and I had all been hanging out after dinner. I loved being with my rogues, but spending time with just my girls was important to me, too, so I made sure to carve out time for just the three of us to be together every few days.
I needed to run upstairs and grab my sheet music for voice practice. My girls had told me that they’d walk me over to practice so I didn’t get ambushed by the harpies, but I didn’t think there would be a problem with me going to my room on my own. Besides, climbing three flights of stairs each time I went to my room got exhausting, and I hated asking my friends to do it.
Every time I turned down the hall to my room I looked for a noose. After that first time, however, there hadn’t been anything, but that didn’t stop me from looking.
Today was no different. Sighing, I slipped my key into the handle and turned it, carefully reaching in to turn on the light before I went into my room. I could tell my friends that I didn’t want them to have to climb the stairs to my room, but the truth was that I didn’t want them to see what I had to do to enter.
Open the door, turn on the light. Quickly scan the room and then the bathroom before locking the door behind me. Once it was closed and locked then I could check the window for signs of tampering and look under the bed. If nothing was there, and so far, nothing had been there, then I could do whatever it was that I had come to my room to do.
I sighed, feeling safe in my room, and turned back to my desk.
My sheet music was there on the top of a pile of other papers and I grabbed it after completing my ritual. Scrawled across it, in red marker, were the wordskill yourself. I blinked, not wanting to believe what I was seeing, but the words didn’t disappear.
No. It couldn’t be. How the hell did someone get into my room?
It had to be the work of the harpies.
Amelia was the only person who would be brave enough to write that on my sheet music.
Scoffing to myself made me feel braver than I actually was, and I shook my head, wondering if I could get another copy before anyone in my vocal group noticed. Before I could turn back to the door, however, something caught my eye.
Something silver.
Something shiny, with a sharp edge.
I picked up the razor blade and turned it over in my hand. I didn’t remember leaving it on my desk, in fact, I’d never seen it before in my life. The thought that Amelia must have been in my room and left it there on purpose ran through my mind, giving me chills.
But how did she have a key? Hanging a noose in my doorway was one thing, but leaving a razor blade on my desk was another.
Suddenly, the metal in my fingers felt hot and I dropped it, watching it fall back to my desk. It landed on an envelope that I hadn’t seen before in my hurry. My fingers shaking, I reached out and picked it up.
My name was scrawled across it in a handwriting that I didn’t recognize.
The flap wasn’t sealed, and inside was only a slip of paper and a picture. Tilting the envelope, I let the contents fall out into my hand.
The picture was Brett. It was a profile shot and he was getting out of a car. My breath caught in my throat as I looked at it. Even though it was an obviously candid picture, he still looked stunning. There was something undeniably attractive about him.
My fingers trembled. It was the first picture that I’d seen of him after his death. We didn’t have any of the two of us, and now I wasn’t sure if we ever would. Tears threatened to well up in the corners of my eyes, but I blinked them back.
When was it taken? I flipped it over to look for a date and gasped.
In the same handwriting as my name on the front of the envelope was the date. Yesterday’s date.
That made absolutely no sense. Someone must have been messing with me, just like they were when they told everyone that we had been hit in the side of the car.
