My eyes widen. Did I give myself away?
“What other rooms have you haunted in Redwood Prep?” Finn demands, his voice so low and penetrating that I know he’s talking about more than just classrooms.
“Nothing that interesting,” I mutter, glancing away. “I saw the chemistry lab. Obviously.” I nod to the room we’re standing in. “The auditorium. The music hall?—”
“Our practice room?”
Finn has a really good lock on his emotions, but his energy shifts can’t be disguised. I’m starting to learn when he’s showing his happy expressionless face or his angry expressionless face.
This time, it’s his “I know you’re Jinx, you little liar” face. I’ve caught him staring at me like this before. It’s still unnerving.
“Whaaaat?” I say in a high-pitched voice. “You have your own practice room? Can I see?”
Of course I know what room that is, and of course I know I’m not allowed in there.
After following Finn into the school, the first place I went was his private practice room.
Unfortunately, the room was a fortress.
And I’m not saying that because it can only be accessed via a private entry card.
Finn made the space totally un-hackable. There was not asingleopening in the system.
Not one.
So I did my next best and tried to get into their phones.
I hit another wall.
Finn must have taken extra precautions to keep people like me out. The jerk.
Not that it’s enough to stop me.
Finn has done a great job of keeping his secrets under lock and key. But I’m here now, closer than his next breath. And I’m going to get my hands on everything this royal pain has been trying to hide.
Chapter Fifteen
FINN
“By the way, what areyoudoing here?” J bats her eyelashes.
I study her expression. She’s good at making that innocent face. How many times has she practiced?
When I don’t respond, she adds, “And how did you find me? Redwood Prep has, like, a gazillion classrooms.”
My jaw clenches. She’s right. I feel like I ran a marathon getting here.
“Did you run around, searching each room to find me?”
I wouldn’t have had to do that if she’d answered the phone. One little conversation would have cleared this up.
“J, I heard gunshots. Are you dead or not?”
“Nope. I’m alive and kicking.”
“Noted.”
I would’ve hidden with my brothers in the practice room where it’s safe. Instead, I sprinted through the school like it was on fire, searching every classroom for a pint of a girl, with skin paler than Snow White, eyes like the ocean, and a body so thin a gust of wind could blow her over.
