“I’ve got this.” I force a tight, brief smile. His hand brushes mine, warm but fleeting, before he steps back into the hall.
Parker nods at the easels arranged in three distinct rows facing the whiteboard. A vague memory flashes behind my eyelids. I always had my students in a semi-circle so no one felt watched as they worked.
The scents of turpentine and oils are mostly hidden by bleach and cheap air freshener. It’s almost…lemony. And it turns my stomach.
Canvases line the wall, all bright and eager—landscapes and bowls of fruit and flowers.
After three years, if any of my former students’ pieces are still here, they won’t be out in the open. I tighten my grip on Belle’s harness—not to help me walk, but to keep me calm. She nudges my thigh with a little inquisitive grunt.
Nate’s voice drifts in from the hall. “How much you want to bet campus security is already on their way? We look like a heist crew, and Cap’s got resting murder face.”
I almost laugh. Nate isn’t wrong.
The cabinets far in the back look like they haven’t been used in years. Dusty and forgotten behind stacks of chairs, collapsed easels, and folded drop cloths.
My body remembers what my mind doesn’t, and I sink down to my knees in front of one where the door isn’t quite true.
The lock sticks, but my fingers know what to do. Lift, jiggle, twist. It pops open, and I take a deep breath.
There are only three canvases inside. The first is an idyllic landscape at sunset. Good use of color and shading, though mostly unoriginal. The signature looks almost like “Shelby.”
Next, a weeping willow tree with a picnic spread out underneath it. This one’s rough. Almost forced.
My heartbeat quickens, and I scrub my damp palms over my thighs. If the painting I remember is here, I’m about to see it for the first time in three years. About to see…myself in its darkness.
I’m shaking now, and almost topple over as I slide it out of the cabinet. I could stop. Tell AJ I want to go home. But that won’t keep me safe. So I take a deep breath and turn the painting around.
The night sky consumes the top of the canvas. Tiny stars dot the midnight blue expanse, with a glowing moon in the corner, hauntingly full. A crowd of people gather along the fringes, some with their hands pressed together in prayer, others on their knees.
I have to force my gaze to the center. Tears prick at my eyes. The woman has her arms raised to the sky, facing the moon. She wears a white dress, and her long, blond hair is held in place by a crown of pink, white, and red flowers.
Parker is suddenly kneeling next to me, her fingers squeezing my arm. “Grace. Breathe. I’ve got you.”
I blink up at her. The painting lies on the floor in front of me. No longer in my hands. I touch my fingers to my cheek and find it soaked with tears.
“Well, son of a bitch,” Nate says, peering over my shoulder. “I think we just found ourselves a cult member.”
AJ shoves one of the stacks of chairs away and angles the canvas to get a better look at the bottom corner. “J.N.” He pulls out his phone and starts flipping through his Notes app like it holds all the secrets of the universe. “Goddammit. We had him. And we let him go.”
“Who?” Parker asks. She has her arm around my shoulders now, and I lean against her. Seeing my death depicted as something almost beautiful has shaken me in ways I can’t explain. I don’t even know that I can speak.
“Joshua Nichols,” AJ mutters. “He emailed Grace a few days before she disappeared and asked if he could turn in his final project that Saturday. She said no—because we were goin’ up to the cabin. But when Harris ordered us on that stakeout, Grace agreed to meet him. Kid had a rock solid alibi. Went from here directly to his bachelor party and was at a bar with half a dozen of his friends until closing.”
Nate tucks the canvas under his arm. “Well, I think we’ve done our part to introduce Grace to new experiences today. This concludes Breaking and Entering for Beginners. Let’s get out of here before this turns into Evading Rent-A-Cops 101.”
AJ helps me to my feet, and with his arm around my waist and Belle at my side, we make it to his SUV seconds before a campus security vehicle pulls up to the curb.
I lean against Belle in the back seat, and a wave of dizziness threatens to send me pitching right over. But I don’t think the bone shard in my head is the cause.
This is the closest I’ve been to remembering Prophet’s face, and I’m terrified of what will happen when I do.
Chapter Sixty-Six
AJ
Joshua Nichols is a fucking ghost.
A single call to one of Grace’s friends in the admissions office got me a copy of his transcripts. In addition to Introduction to Oil Painting, he took 3D Printing Fundamentals, something called Advanced Additive Manufacturing, Renewable Energy Systems 101, Sustainable Agriculture, and two quarters of Metal Shop.
