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“Mrs. Strasser.” Raina’s eyes are full of sorrow. “Oh my goodness, Mrs. Strasser. I was standing right there with Sienna when she heard the news. I am so,sosorry.”
“Raina...” How did this girl get in? I’d just checked the door—it was locked. Did she say anything to the reporters? Isshea reporter? “This isn’t a good time.”
Raina’s eyebrows arch. “Sienna invited me. She’s upstairs, right? Staying here for a little while instead of the dorms?” She makes a strange choking sound. “I really,reallyneed to see if she’s holding up okay.”
I notice Raina’s red eyes and blotchy skin. Has she been crying... about Greg? I’m confused. Raina barelyknewGreg.
Raina wipes her eyes. Her gaze shifts to Willa. “Are you Sienna’s aunt Willa?”
“Yes...” Willa says cautiously, seemingly picking up on my vibe.
“Nice to meet you. Sienna thinks you’re the bomb.” Raina sniffs, then points upstairs. “Can I go up just for a sec? Please?”
“Um...” God, I’m too tired for this. “Fine. Sure. Whatever.”
To my horror, Raina wraps her arms around my shoulders. She smells like flowery perfume and expensive leather and vodka. A tendril of silky hair slithers across the back of my neck like a spider, and I jump back. “Okay, okay,” I say. “Go on.”
Raina’s booties thump on the risers. Willa’s gaze is on me, and I sigh. “That’s one of Sienna’s college friends—she was out with Sienna the night Greg died, actually. They go to Aldrich together. Raina used to work for Dad—that’s how Sienna met her, I believe—but she doesn’t anymore, I don’t know why. But I don’t get a great vibe from her.”
“Why?”
I shrug. “I came home one time to find her in my bedroom, standing near my dresser. The drawers weren’t open, there was nosign she’d touched anything... but I don’t know why she was in there in the first place.”
Willa’s eyes linger on the stairs again. We can’t hear any noises coming from all the way up there. “Was she close with Greg?”
“Not thatIknow of. Though...” I glance upstairs again. Those tears in Raina’s eyes. That heartbroken voice.
And suddenly I realize something. The night Greg was killed, I’d called Sienna when we reached the hospital. Before blurting out what happened, I’d asked where she was. “At this party,” she said. “But it’s winding down. And I’m not drunk. As soon as I find Raina, I’m leaving.”
As soon as I find Raina.But Raina just told me she’dbeenwith Sienna when my daughter heard the news. She’d implied that she’d been standing right next to her. Witnessing it all.
She just lied.
10
RAINA
FRIDAY, APRIL 28, 2017
I know I should stay away from Alfred Manning’s house—for a lot of reasons. It’s not like I’m his favorite person these days. But I saw him pulling out of the street before I turned in, so at least I knew I’d avoidthatminefield. I came for Sienna. I need to be around people who are as shaken as I am. I wish I could tell her the truth... but I’m not an idiot. Sienna wouldn’t understand. She’d take offense. I would, too, if I were in her shoes.
But still, for all intents and purposes, she’s my friend. And as a friend, I have the right to console her. So here I am.
When I climb the stairs to the bedroom where Sienna is staying, I find her sitting on the floor, a yellow fleece blanket bunched in her lap. She’s not crying. Practically not breathing. Instead, she’s staring at something on her cell phone. Her finger keeps scrolling, down, down, down—it’s a long text. Or a homework assignment. I really hope Sienna isn’t worrying about homework at a time like this, but then again, she’s obsessed with grades. The day I met her, when I was working in her grandfather’s office, she’d run into the lobby near tears because she didn’t understand an organic chemistry assignment and was sure she was going to fail the required class. Alfredwas out, but I’d stepped in to help her. Organic chemistry isn’t that hard if you understand the equations. Sienna was so grateful for my pop-up tutoring session that she instantly made me her friend... which worked to my advantage.
Now, Sienna looks up and sees my tears, and a confused expression flutters over her features. Maybe she’s thinking,drama queen.Maybe she’s speculating about Greg’s hacked e-mails—I’m sure she’s read them. Who hasn’t?
Or maybe she’s wondering who killed him.
I drop to my knees next to her. “How are you holding up, baby?”
Sienna blinks slowly, like a turtle. She looks at my tears and, once again, her face registers confusion. “Sorry.” I wipe my eyes, growing self-conscious. “I’ve got PMS. And I’m scared shitless. There’s a killer on the loose, you know?”
Sienna’s mouth twists. Still, she says nothing.
“Have the police figured anything out?” I ask. “Do they have a suspect?”
“I don’t know.” Sienna’s voice is emotionless. “Our whole house is being dusted for fingerprints. Even my bedroom. They’re probably going through my drawers. Looking at my underwear and tampons.”
