“You’ve been hurt?” I ask. “Sydney…” I’m about to cry, but Sydney is quick to comfort me.
“I’m okay, Mena,” she says. “I promise. There’s a lot to talk about, I know. But don’t worry about me—I’ve got this.”
I look sideways at Annalise. Her eyes are glassy with anticipation as she stares at the phone. She hasn’t talked to Sydney since she left us in Connecticut. I hold up the phone closer to my mouth.
“I have someone who wants to say hi,” I tell Sydney.
“Hi, Jackson,” she announces. Across the room, he smiles.
“It’s me,” Annalise says simply.
“Annalise!” Sydney says with a gasp. “Is that really you?”
“It’s me,” Annalise says again, sniffling back her tears. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too,” Sydney replies. “But I’m also mad at you.” She laughs. “I’m furious.” She laughs again.
Of course we were upset that Annalise left us without a goodbye, putting herself in danger and all around breaking our hearts. But the minute we talk to her again, it’s forgiven. We’re happy to have her back in our lives. She’s our sister. She’s part of us.
“Yeah, well,” Annalise says. “I’m a little mad at you for whatever dumb thing you did last night. What happened? How did you end up locked inside of Hawke Fusillo’s mansion?”
Quentin sits next to Jackson, all of us waiting for the explanation. Sydney takes a big breath.
“That’s the thing,” Sydney says. “Hawke Fusillo is the one who found me.”
12
It was after I last talked with you, Mena,” Sydney continues. “I went for a walk outside the hotel to toss my phone. Then I stopped in a convenience store to grab another, along with a bag of chips. When I walked outside, there was a black car waiting.”
“You think you were followed?” I ask.
“I know I was,” she says. “I have no idea how they knew I was in town, but they must have been watching me. The driver’s door opened, and a big guy in a gray suit asked me to get inside. I obviously told him no, but he said that Hawke wanted to meet me in person.”
“You should have still said no,” Jackson says. When I look at him, he shrugs. “I know you want to stop these investors, but that was dangerous.”
“You’re cute, Jackson,” Sydney says, and continues, “anyway, I ditched my chips and got into the empty backseat. When the driver wasn’t looking, I emailed you all.”
“Did you meet him?” I ask. “Did you meet the investor?”
“Briefly, yes,” she says. “He was pompous with an overly bloated ego. But he was very much alive.”
“What happened?” Annalise asks.
“At first, we arrived at the estate, guards everywhere. They walked right to the front door, frisked me, and then sent me inside the mansion and locked the door behind me. A voice called for me to come upstairs, but of course, I grabbed a heavy candlestick before walking up there.”
“Good girl,” Annalise murmurs.
“I found Hawke in a bathrobe, sitting on a large brown leather couch in his study. He laughed when he saw my weapon, but he didn’t ask me to put it down. He wasn’t scared of me. Instead, he motioned for me to sit across from him.” Sydney’s voice grows strained. “Let me be clear,” she says, “Hawke Fusillo was an absolute sleaze. He kept telling me how gorgeous I was, how perfect, how… delicious. Fusillo wanted to see his product. He asked how much his investment got him.”
“So youdidkill him,” Annalise says.
“No,” Sydney replies. “Before I could do much, there was a noise from downstairs, a loud thump. Fusillo jumped up, babbling about how he’d told them not to enter under any circumstances. He rushed out of the study, and I immediately ran over to his desk and started pulling open the drawers, looking for information. I’d barely gotten to the left side when I heard Fusillo shouting at someone.”
“What did he say?” I ask. On the other bed, the boys are leaning forward, listening intently.
“He said, and I quote, ‘How did you get in here? What do you want?’?” Sydney says, deepening her voice to sound like him. “And then there was a rapid set of footsteps, like someone running very quickly up the stairs. Fusillo screamed, literally screamed, and I slid under the desk and pulled in the chair to try to hide myself.
“There were a bunch of muffled sounds,” she continues. “Grunts, like they were fighting. And then Fusillo stuttered out, ‘Y… You stabbed me with that…? What… Who are you?’ There was another thud followed by a series of bumps and bangs and a sharp crack.”
