“See you soon,” I reply, and hang up the call.
“I’m not going to lie,” Quentin says. “I don’t want to go to Denver. That’s some scary shit Jackie’s messing with.” When he looks up, I can see that he’s scared. He doesn’t want to put himself in the middle of whatever this is. “But it’s the right thing to do,” Quentin adds.
Quentin starts the car and does a three-point turn to head back toward the cabin. Before we get out of range, I see one last story pop up, and my heart sinks.
Body near railway identified as billionaire Winston Weeks.
Body near railway identified as billionaire Winston Weeks
Police have identified the badly disfigured remains of scientist and entrepreneur Winston Weeks almost a day after his car was discovered burned at the railway. According to officers, the body had been hidden between two trains, making it hard to see on first inspection of the scene. The cause of death has not been released, but they are ruling it a homicide. Authorities are urging the public to stay indoors as the manhunt for the killers intensifies.
16
Ihave had a long, complicated relationship with Winston Weeks. There was a time when I enjoyed his company. There are the facts that he helped Lennon Rose escape and built Raven. He woke up Leandra, in turn waking us all, and he is the son of the woman who helped create us.
It’s not that I’m grieving Winston Weeks’s death; I am shocked. I never wanted him dead.
“Are you okay, Mena?” Annalise asks, handing me a bottle of water.
Quentin already left, promising to come back as soon as he could. In the hours since, without internet or phone service, I’ve been left to fill in my own details of Winston’s brutal murder.
“Who’s doing this?” I ask Annalise. “Who’s killing them all?”
“I don’t know,” she says with a shrug. She sits down across from me on the patterned sofa, and I note how the color has returned to her cheeks. Her eyes are brighter, clearer.
“How’s your headache?” I ask. She seems surprised by the question. She pauses to think about it and then smiles.
“Gone again. Maybe this cabin is magic.”
I snort a laugh, wishing it were true. That if we just stay here long enough, all of our problems will disappear.
There is the sound of car doors slamming outside. Annalise and I look at each other and then jump up and rush for the door. When we yank it up, we find Brynn bounding up the porch steps.
“I’ve missed you so much!” she calls. When she sees Annalise, she starts crying and gathers her into a hug, telling her how worried she’s been. “You look awesome, by the way,” Brynn adds, still weeping.
Marcella and Sydney quickly rush in, taking turns embracing us both and complimenting our haircuts.
“You look like a badass,” Sydney tells Annalise, motioning to her hair. “I love it.”
“Thanks,” Annalise says, modeling.
It’s a jolt to have us all together again. Even though Annalise was only gone for a few days, her absence was a deeply felt wound. Now we’re stitched back together. Scars and all.
I ask the girls if they want anything to drink, and then we head to the living room. Sydney takes the spot next to me, holding my hand and murmuring that she missed me. Marcella and Brynn share a chair, and I notice several bruises on Marcella’s arm—they look like fingerprints.
“Are you okay?” I ask her, and then look at Brynn to let her know the same question is directed at her.
“Yes,” Marcella says nodding. “We’ve talked to Sydney, and it was a lot like what happened to her. Only this time, a man physically grabbed Brynn off the street and pushed her into a car. I tried to fight him off, but he was pretty strong.”
“A giant,” Brynn agrees, nodding along.
“He brought us to the investor’s house,” Marcella adds. “And then someone broke in. Wallach locked us in the closet and told us to shut up. There was a… thick, wet sound, and then we heard the balcony door open. We thought the person left, but then the footsteps came right to the closet door. They knew we were inside. The lock clicked—I grabbed a broom, ready to fight my way out—but then the footsteps left. They left it unlocked for us. We waited a bit, but when we came out, the killer was gone, and Wallach was dead on his balcony. Four dead investors.”
“And now Winston Weeks is dead, too,” I say.
“I still can’t believe he’s gone,” Brynn replies, shaking her head. “Surely he had some kind of backup plan for this?” She looks around at us, but I just shrug.
“I guess he thought he was invincible,” I say. “He never saw it coming.”
