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Chapter One
There are things in life that everyone just knows are true.
No matter how larger than life the grownups in your life seem, eventually you get old enough to realize that they’re only human.
People don’t change, unless they really want to.
Death is inevitable.
But even though we know that death will eventually come for all of us, we’re still surprised when it happens.
Memento Mori.
Remember that you must die.
* * *
Who the fuck is Evangeline Pratt?
My phone rings as I stride out of the police station. I ignore it.
It rings again. When I look down at the screen and see my father’s name flashing, I send the call to voicemail.
On the third ring, I finally answer it.
“What?”
My father’s breathing is audible before he says anything, like he needs a second to put the words together. “Why in the name of Christ would you go to the Drumville police?”
I hold the phone away from my ear for a second, wondering if I can hang up right now and convincingly blame it on a faulty connection later. “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”
“When are you going to get it through your head that this isn’t a goddamn game?”
My father rarely expends the energy on me that it would take to get angry. I’m used to his disappointment and derision, maybe even disgust if the situation warrants it.
But he never gets angry.
“If we were playing a game, I’d be having more fun,” I retort. “You told me to handle this and I’m handling it.”
He scoffs, the sound derisive. “Did you at least gather some useful information?”
I’m more than a little surprised that Captain Humphrey had evidently been telling the truth about not sneaking a look at the file. If he did, my father would definitely know about it.
For a split second, I consider telling him what I’ve discovered.
Except I don’t even understand what I’ve discovered.
“No.”
“How disappointing. I’ve heard that the last party at Havoc House was quite an event. Should I take that to mean Olivia Pratt has finally left St. Bart’s for good?”
An image of her stricken face flashes across my vision, a visceral memory of that moment when the video played during the party. Playing that damn thing definitely hadn’t been my idea, but I expected her to be embarrassed.
Instead, Olivia only seemed frustrated and sad.
Maybe that’s because it wasn’t Olivia at all.
“Nobody sane would show their face again after that.” The words taste bitter on my tongue, but I doubt my father notices the change in my tone. “She has to be packing up right now, so it’s only a matter of time.”
