“Do you know who it is?” Cyn asks quietly.
I swallow and despite the water in my hand, my mouth is dry.
Karter starts scrolling on her phone, her brows knitted, and I hold my breath as she searches whatever page she’s looking at for answers. After a moment of only the music playing between us, she shakes her head, and I start to feel a flutter of relief, hoping my bad feeling won’t come true tonight.
But then she says, “It’s on social, I don’t think it’s true, but…” She looks up again, and her eyes connect with mine as she swallows hard. “I need to find Tasia.” But she doesn’t move to get up.
My pulse beats so loud, I can’t hear myself breathe.
“Is it her?” Cynthia’s tone is ghostly. She sounds afraid.
She should be, no matter what the answer is. And she doesn’t even know it.
Karter shakes her head again. She’s still staring at me.
It’s hard to hold her gaze, but I force myself not to look away.
“It’s…” She clears her throat, then glances at her phone again, as if she’s read it wrong. “They’re saying, anyway, that it’s…”
“Say it.” I snarl the words, because I can’t stand the suspense anymore.
“Ace.” Karter whispers the name, and she doesn’t look at me again. “They’re saying it’s Ace.”
FORTY-EIGHT
FAUST
The game is canceled.
Apparently four murders on campus is one too many to continue as if everything is fine. We had morning skate instead, and Coach Wynon told me to keep an ear out and my eyes peeled as I walked through campus. He said, direct quote, “Just stay in your fucking castle, Darling.”
If I get murdered, it weakens the team.
Message received loud and clear.
Mom was much more dramatic. She told me to come home, and Rachel joined her in the background of the call saying exactly the same. At the very least, they want me to pour liquor outside for the “spirits of the house” to protect me.
I might do that but I’m not going anywhere, except to Neve’s.
For the first time in far too long, I have a free Saturday and I’m not wasting it.
I snatch up my phone from my bed after I’ve showered and dressed, then bring up her number, but Sylvan’s name pops up at the top of my screen as if he’s watching me. I grit my teeth, then open the text. We barely spoke this morning; don’t really need to when you’re in sync like we are on the rink, and lastnight, I called him off from waiting outside the private room at the lounge.
But I know about the altercation outside of Castle Morack.
How he had his arm around one girl but he looked like he might snap the neck of some other guy for touching Neve.
And now that man is dead.
Sylvan
We should be with her.
I stare at his words and feel something twist in my chest because yeah, it’s true, we should, but I don’t want him to be the one to say that and I don’t know if I think he’s fully innocent.
The more I consider it, the less certain I am he didn’t have time to kill Jackson the first night we met Neve. Or was it only the first night for me? Because the way he’s so attached to her—and it’s not like she’s been spending the night inhisbed—I’m not sure he didn’t know who she was.But don’t I feel the same?
Did you see Ace after the castle last night?
