Suddenly, my worry spikes. “Has anyone heard from Marcella and Brynn?” I ask.
“No,” Sydney replies. “But they might not be awake yet.”
“Maybe,” I say. “But Fusillo knew you were in town,” I tell Sydney. “What if he was expecting you? How did he know you were there? What was his plan?”
“I don’t know. He forgot to tell me before he broke his neck,” she replies. “I’m going to email Marcella and Brynn again. Mena, you and Annalise get phones and send out the number. I’ll call Jackson’s phone if I hear anything before then. I’m hitting the road in an hour.”
“Where are you going to go?” I ask.
“Only one place to go,” she says. “Back to Leandra’s to find out if she set us up.”
“You can’t go there!” I tell her. “It’s not safe.”
“Nowhere is really safe,” Sydney says. “But I need to talk to Leandra. She’s the one who sent us on this investor hunt. Scattered us across the country so we can find these men. Who else knew where we were going?”
“We actually have quite a few suspects,” I say. “Even if I disregard that, there’s no way Leandra could be in all those places at once. She was fairly busy burying a body at Rosemarie’s house when I left her.”
“I’m not saying she’s working alone,” Sydney replies. “And you have to admit that she has a questionable grasp on the morality of murdering people. This isn’t outside of her wheelhouse.”
“She wants to separate us,” Annalise says. “She knows how strong we are together, and by separating us she has a better chance of convincing us to help her. Look at what she’s done to Lennon Rose.”
It wasn’t Leandra who changed Lennon Rose, but that doesn’t negate Annalise’s point. Leandra would have known that we would separate, especially when she told me that Mr. Goodwin had alerted the corporation about us. We didn’t have time to travel together to three different locations. Not to mention she knew exactly where each investor was.
If Leandra did set us up, putting us in incredible danger, was she really trying to hurt us? Or was she trying to prove a point? Kill or be killed. That would definitely fit her narrative.
“Whatever Leandra’s done,” I say, “we need to finish this part of the plan. We’ll check in with Marcella and Brynn, and if they haven’t made contact with their investor yet, we fly out to help them. We get back together. We end this corporation, we find Valentine, and then we get Raven and Lennon Rose. We get the rest of the girls from Leandra, and then together, we all disappear—for good this time.”
Both Sydney and Annalise are quiet for a moment before they agree. It’s hard to stick to a plan when it works slower than you want. Change isn’t always easy or quick. Sometimes, we have to take little wins and let them add up. That’s what we need to do here.
“Wait,” Sydney says loudly. “Someone’s calling my other line. I think it’s Marcella. We’ll call you right back.” She hangs up.
I check with Annalise to see how she feels about the decision to move forward with the plan. She’s rubbing at her temple, a slight grayish color to her skin.
“Are you in pain right now?” I ask, angry at myself for not asking sooner.
During our escape from the academy, Annalise had been fatally injured by the Guardian. He caused permanent damage not only to her face, but also to her internal hardware. We were able to revive Annalise with Leandra’s help, but it’s become apparent that the injuries she suffered have left her with multiple issues. Ones that Raven has told us can’t be fixed. Ones that will eventually shut her down for good.
“I’m okay,” Annalise says. “Just a little headache.”
I reach over to take her hand, offering her my support, when the lock on the hotel room door clicks, startling us. I look up just as Quentin rushes in, holding two coffees.
“Turn on the TV,” he orders, haphazardly setting down the drinks on the dresser before darting back to the door for Jackson.
“Is it more about Hawke Fusillo?” I ask, alarmed by his insistence.
“No,” he says, then shakes his head. “Actually, yes. But… just turn it on.” He takes the cupholder with two additional coffees from Jackson’s hand and helps him inside. As they shut the door, Annalise grabs the remote and clicks back to the news station.
The banner on the bottom alerts us that there is breaking news, and then to drive home a point, it’s followed by ominous music and a montage of natural disasters and people in courtrooms.
“What’s going on?” I ask, looking at Quentin. He stands watching the TV, hands folded on top of his head, and Jackson sits in the chair near the desk.
“Heard it on the radio,” Quentin says. “Your friends are in Oregon, right?” he asks. “They know this guy?”
He points to the screen just as the ticker changes:Billionaire Robert Wallach found dead at his Portland estate.
My heart skips because yes, they do sort of know him. “He’s the Oregon investor,” I say, my face feeling hot. Do Marcella and Brynn know about this? Did they have anything to do with it?
The newscaster taps the stack of white papers he’s holding on his desktop and looks into the camera. “We have major breaking news just coming in,” he says. Despite the seriousnessof the statement, his voice is flippant. Cynical, but excited.
