Whitney swallows, glances out the window, and when she looks back at me, her green eyes are watery. “Easton,” she whispers. “I swear, I didn’t know. I thought it was weird, but you have to believe me. Youhaveto.” Her voice breaks. “Until you mentioned drugs just now, I had no idea. I—I mean, I kind of wondered what he did, but I’ve never actually seen anyone do that except for in the movies.”
“Jesus, Whitney.” I sigh and rub my palm down my face. I believe her. Whitney might be catty, but she’s not evil. Just naïve. Even though I’m pissed she’d blame Eva for what happened with her dad, I get that Whitney’s in pain too.
Fuck. My stomach wrenches at the thought of what might have happened to Eva if I hadn’t shown up when I did yesterday.
Who the fuck is this guy? How the hell does he have photos of Eva and her biological family? Clearly, the idea he only wants to reunite them is just a cover for why he drugged her.
Even if I manage to stop my mom from sending Eva across the country, how do I keep her safe from someone as sick as him? Eyes narrowing, I recall what I found tucked into the waistband of Eva’s jeans when I removed them. Broken glass—spattered with faded red stains. I thought it was strange when I saw it, but now ... now, I wonder if there’s more to that little shard than I could possibly understand.
“Shit.” I rub the back of my neck and start the car, anger and apprehension shaking the keys in my grip.
“What are we doing now?” Whitney asks.
“You’re going to school,” I answer, pulling out of the parking spot. “I’m going to find Eva.” And call the cops, but I keep that part to myself so I won’t alarm her. I don’t have enough information, let alone evidence, but the signs are all here, and if he was on school grounds, there’s gotta at least be a record of him on camera.
Whitney nods, her focus geared toward the school, but I can see panic in the way she squeezes the hem of her dress.
Pulling in front of the entrance, I hit the brakes and glance at Whitney. “Hey.”
She looks at me, her eyes wide.
“I’ll find her, okay? It’s gonna be all right.” My voice is raw with determination and hope. “She’s going to be okay.” Shehasto be. The steadfast look on my mom’s face before I left the house flashes in my mind, and when realization seeps in, my jaw twitches. “I’m starting to get the feeling she won’t be coming to school today, but will you text me if you see her?”
“Yeah. Of course. Easton ...” Whitney sniffs. “I just wanted her gone.” The words are quiet. “Not—not—ugh. Oh, gosh.” She covers her mouth, her pale skin turning a shade lighter. “Do you really think ... Was he going to ...”
She can’t bring herself to say it.
Neither can I, but we both know the answer.
Eva
Izip the flashy suitcase shut. Bridget, still staring at me, watched with crossed arms and disapproving eyes the entire time I packed the travel set, otherwise I wouldn’t have bothered. A minute on the street with anArmanilogo on my bag, and I’ll be robbed blind.
Rising to my feet, I pull my hair into a ponytail and move past Bridget.
“Where are you going?”
“Bathroom,” I say numbly.
I lock the door before I dig through the cabinets, stuffing a toiletry bag with as many practical necessities as it can hold. Tampons, bodywash, a toothbrush, and toothpaste. Fuck it. I take theChanelface cream too.
On my way back out, I still when a purple bottle of shampoo catches my eye. Shampoo I’ll never be able to afford on my own. I swallow, reach into the shower, and lift the bottle to my nose. Lavender, and the sound of his voice.
I love the way you smell.
An ache creeps past the ice encasing my chest, and I shut my eyes.
The last time I was sent away from home, I didn’t get to prepare. And yet, I’d swap all these bottled comforts for the chance to be unaware again. There’s a cold truth in the statementignorance is bliss.
“Eva, it’s time.”
My hands shake as I put the shampoo into the bag and zip it up. I open the door, pass Bridget’s still form, and slip the toiletry bag into my suitcase.
“Your driver is parked out front.”
I turn to her. “It’s a seven-minute walk to school. I don’t need a driver.”
“That would be accurate if you were going to school. The airport, however, is forty miles from here, and I don’t have the time to take you myself, seeing as this was unplanned.” She eyes me up and down.
