“All right, come in,” I tell her. Sydney and I walk inside and join the other girls.
Raven enters, slowly and cautiously, and stops in the entryway. She leaves the door slightly ajar and looks around at us, studying each of our faces. The last time I saw Raven, she was a wreck, but now, her hair is smooth, her makeup subtle and delicate.
She reaches to set her bag gently next to the door before turning back to us. “It’s good to see you again, girls,” she whispers. “I’ve really missed you.”
Annalise slides her eyes in my direction, and I’ll admit, I’m a bit unsettled by Raven’s behavior. And then without warning, Raven takes an elaborate bow.
“I apologize in advance for the next portion of our evening,” she says, and then takes a step aside. “I’m here,” she adds, “but I did not come alone.”
Brynn gasps behind me, but none of us say anything. We’re too stunned to ask who is here with her, who followed her, because a hand wraps around the edge of the front door, pushing it open soundlessly.
When it swings wide, the earth shifts under my feet. Standing there, like he just stepped out of my nightmare, is Anton Stuart. He smiles brightly and turns to Raven, offering her his hand. She takes it, and I flinch like I’ve been slapped.
“Thank you, Valentine,” Anton says warmly. “You have done an excellent job, my dear.”
17
Valentine,” I repeat, stunned. And when she smiles at me again, I see that it’s true. The same smile, even though it’s in a different face. The overcorrected posture. And of course, the red bow in her hair. My eyelids flutter, and I’m not sure what to do with myself. I feel faint.
“You’re alive,” Annalise says, staggering forward a step. “But… what happened to Raven? I don’t understand.…”
“Don’t worry,” Valentine says. She lets go of Anton’s hand to close and lock the door. “By the end of tonight, you’ll know everything.”
Anton beams proudly. “My girls,” he announces. “All together again.”
For his part, Anton hasn’t changed much since we left him at the academy. Although there are some differences, he’s the same man we would meet with nearly every day. He’s dressed casually, not with the warm-looking sweaters he’d worn at the academy,but in a black T-shirt, dark jeans, and white sneakers. At the same time, he’s clean shaven, showing the deep laugh lines near his mouth, the gray in his hair more pronounced. He looks both younger and older somehow. Who is this man? What does he want with us?
“We should chat,” Anton tells us, holding up his hands innocently as he steps farther into the room. “The way we used to.”
Marcella is quick to rush around the counter and grab a large butcher knife, holding it out in front of us. “Stay back!” she commands.
“Now, now,” he says. “You’re overreacting. I don’t even have a weapon.” He shakes out his hands to prove it. “I’m just here to talk.”
“Liar,” I say. He flashes an annoyed look in my direction, but quickly tries to recover.
“How about we sit down and have a civilized discussion like adults?” he suggests. “You’ll be very interested in what I have to say.” He doesn’t wait for us to agree. He walks past us into the living room and sits in the big chair facing the couch.
Valentine starts to walk past us, but Brynn reaches out to clutch her arm. Valentine turns, allowing Brynn to study her eyes. Brynn lets go, realizing it truly is our old friend.
“How could you?” Brynn asks. “Why would you bring him here?”
“You’ll understand soon,” Valentine says. She takes a phone from her pocket and clicks a few buttons. “There’s no signal here, right?” she asks us.
None of us respond, but she smiles anyway. She checks her phone one more time before nodding and going to join Anton in the living room.
Annalise slams her fist on the counter and storms after them. She goes to stand directly in front of Anton, but he doesn’t flinch. In fact, he leans in and regards her.
“Your hair is very different, Annalise,” he says. “Quite a change. Was there a reason you felt you had to rebel? Your scars, perhaps?”
He’s treating her the same way he treated all of us during our therapy sessions. Analyze, confuse, criticize—break down each of our feelings until he was the one telling us how to feel. But Annalise doesn’t fall for it.
“You can’t hurt me anymore, Anton,” she says. “Now tell me what you did to Raven. How did you get Valentine inside there?” She points angrily at Valentine, who’s sitting primly in another chair. It’s strange, of course, Raven’s body behaving so differently.
“I’m sure your Raven is still in there somewhere,” Anton says. “Stop worrying so much, Annalise. It’s making you annoying. Now sit down and I’ll explain.”
She stares at him, her hands balled into tight fists at her sides. Just when I think she’s going to deck him, Anton takes a small remote from his pocket.
“There is another way we can do this,” he suggests. “But I don’t think you’ll like it.”
