I studied the image in the photos: a close-up of a worn sash readingMiss 1990.
At the bottom of each of the photos on the white frame surrounding the image, as well as the one word, there was a number indicating the proper order in which to read them.
“Wait,” I said, shuffling the photos until all five were in order. The note now read:
SHE KILLED BOTH OF THEM
Someone had taken time to make this message. To accuse Miss 1990—Aunt DeeDee—of killing two people. Perhaps Miss 2001? And then, more recently, Mr. Finch?
The accuser had snuck into my room, either before I’d arrived or after I’d fallen asleep, to leave the message. I growled and threw the Polaroids on the floor, mentally cursing.
“I should’ve checked my bed last night, but I just fell asleep. Who would leave something like this?”
“Someone who wants your aunt behind bars.”
“But why?”
I knew the literal answer. Someone wanted her behind bars either because they were out to get her… or she’d actually committed murder, and they were too scared to come forward. But I knew it had to be the first: someone was continuing to frame my aunt. I tried to see Aunt DeeDee holding any kind of weapon aimed at Mr. Finch, but the image wouldn’t compute.
My heart began to beat more rapidly, the staccato picking up pace as my palms grew sweaty and my vision began to swim.
The last time I’d had a panic attack was the day we’d found out that the experimental treatment—Momma’s last chance—hadn’t worked. Just like that day, my chest muscles constricted, my heart pummeled my ribcage, and my hands grew clammier by the second. Black spots floated into my vision. Except unlike that time, Momma wasn’t there to calm me down.
Lacy spotted the signs and made me sit, then shoved my head between my legs. “You’re okay. Breathe, Dakota. Breathe. In, out. In, out. Good girl.”
“I feel like I’m going to…”
“I know, I know. You’re okay.”
Can I just take a second to say what a badass Lacy proves to be again and again? She graduated from our class as valedictorian, earned an MBA from Georgetown, and convinced the Finches to give her the largest contract yet for her fledgling event planning company. All that and still, here she stood, rubbing circles into my back as she helped bring me back to myself.
Minutes passed and my body, worn out, began to calm, finding its baseline, which—while overthinking and slightly anxious—was not typically on the verge of hysteria.
Lacy traded my coffee for a glass of water and sat on the bed next to me, scattering the Polaroids.
“I’m sorry,” I said, moving my wet hair. “I soaked your shirt.”
“It’ll dry soon.” She pulled the AllSaints top away from her skin. “Look, I know you and the sheriff didn’t exactly hit things off,” Lacy said, breathing out something she’d been holding back. “But hand these photos over to him. He can help.”
I thought of Aunt DeeDee telling me to trust the man who’d put her behind bars. I still hated that suggestion just as much.
“Give him these photos, and then proceed as usual?” I asked. That seemed to be a common theme at the Rose Palace.
“Pretty much. Do your job. Win the crown. And in the meantime, keep listening and watching and gathering clues to figure out where Mr. Finch could be. You and I both know Aunt DeeDee is innocent, so we operate from that starting point.”
“This is way bigger than what Momma expected when she wrote that letter and paid my entry fees,” I told her.
Lacy considered that statement as she lay back on the bed and turned on her side. “Yeah, but she would’ve gotten a kick out of all of this. I mean, not your aunt in jail, but, you know, the puzzle of it all.”
“She did love puzzles of all kinds.” I put my hand over Lacy’s and gripped it as I fell beside her. “If someone is trying to scare me away… it’s kind of working. I mean… a missing crown is one thing, but… murder?”
Lacy leaned on her elbow, looking me in the eye. “But you’re gonna stay, right?”
I hesitated. A couple of years ago, Lacy wouldn’t have needed to ask a question like that.
“You’ll make yourself stay, won’t you?” Lacy asked again.
“I have to be here for Aunt DeeDee,” I answered. “And we still need the money… I just need to place… if that’s even a possibility now.”
