Now I can review the files more carefully and take my time learning about Edith.The killer, I correct. I can’t let myself forget why I’m investigating her or what she’s done.
What she still could do again.
I hurry down the hall when a familiar voice makes me freeze.
“Amund?”
CHAPTER ELEVENEDITH
“Amund?” Nils suddenly stops, and I nearly bump into his back. I’ve been so focused on what’s waiting for me in Helga’s office, I almost didn’t notice.
Amund turns around.
Why ishehere?
Some part of me hoped that last night was another nightmare. Emilía lying in the grass. Blood covering my hands. Amund accusing me of murder. Now, standing before him, I know it was real. There’s no escaping Amund or his accusation.
But it isn’t me he’s staring at.
“Nils?” He takes a tentative step toward us.
They clearly know each other.
“What are you doing here?” Nils asks. He sounds… different. Not his usual cheerful self, but I can’t figure out why.
Amund approaches him. “Is that really all you have to say to me?”
“You didn’t answer the question.”
Something flashes across Amund’s face, almost like hurt. “I was running an errand for Father.”
Now that they’re standing near each other, I can see some similarities, though Amund looks more severe, his features sharper and chiseled. He’s all hard edges—he has none of Nils’s soft kindness. Nils mentioned he had an older brother, didn’t he?
I never would’ve imagined it wasAmund.
I study Amund a little more closely, lingering on his brown eyes and bangs that stick to his forehead. A slight sheen of sweat glistens on his skin, like he’s been training already this morning.
“You.”
Amund looks me over, scrutinizing every inch of me, his gaze hard and cold, before turning to his brother. “What are you doing withher?”
“Showing her to Helga’s office.” Nils frowns. “Why would Father sendyouhere?”
“We need to talk, Nils.”
I shift uncomfortably. Is he going to tell Nils about last night?
“I have nothing else to say to you.” Nils turns toward me, gesturing to a door on our right. “Here, Edith. This is her office. I’ll see you in history later.”
“Nils, it’s important,” Amund pleads.
I have no idea what happened between them, but I also can’t help imagining how Amund must be feeling. HowIwould feel if Bea refused to talk to me even after I begged.
Nils looks at me and then to his brother. “What is it?”
“I need to speak with you. Alone,” Amund adds, the words pointed at me like a weapon.
“I was just leaving.”
