“Gregor?”
“It deserved a name,” he said. “It’s my roommate.”
“ButGregor?”
“Yes.”
“That’s a horrible name.”
“That’s your wrong opinion,” he said, “and you’re entitled to it. Gregor and I are very comfortable with the decision.”
“So weird.” They’d gravitated closer while speaking, elbows kissing atop the banister. “Tell me something else,” she said. “Something embarrassing.”
“That’s an easy one. I’ve been keeping your chewed-up pens in the glove compartment of my car.”
A startled laugh burst out of her. “I can’t believe you just admitted to that. That is incredibly creepy.”
His smile sharpened. “Bold words from a girl with a drawing of me shoved in her purse.”
Heat burnished her cheeks. For a long time afterward, she pretended to be deeply engrossed in the ebb and flow of the crowd. She was acutely aware of Colton’s proximity—the way his arm brushed hers every time one of them moved even the slightest bit. There was something strangely intimate in it—standing side by side without speaking. Tucked away together in an empty alcove in a sleepy museum. A thousand worlds away from home.
When she finally snuck a glance in his direction, it was to find them nose to nose in the pale wash of daylight. Conflict swam in the frigid brown of his gaze.
“I have to tell you something,” he said. “Something important.”
“Okay.”
His mouth twisted into a grimace. He looked as if he was bracing himself—readying himself for a blow. “It’s about the day in the meadow. About the body you saw.”
The loud clearing of a throat rebounded all through the marbled dome. She and Colton leapt apart at the sound. Mackenzie stood at the top of the main staircase, a sketchpad clutched to her chest. Adya loomed several paces behind her, the color gone from her cheeks.
“It was Nate Schiller,” Mackenzie said. She was looking directly at Colton. “That’s what you were about to say, right? That the body in the meadow was Lane’s friend Nate?”
Confusion strung through Delaney like a web. “That’s impossible.”
Next to her, Colton didn’t deny it. Instead, his response came out flat. “Yes.”
Delaney’s veins iced over. “What?”
“Someone found him this morning,” Mackenzie said. “He was half-dead in a public park out in Chicago.”
“Oh mygod.” Delaney’s stomach curdled. “Is he—Will he be okay?”
“They don’t know.” Mackenzie hadn’t taken her eyes off Colton. “He’s been admitted to the hospital.”
“They posted his picture on the news,” Adya said, fidgeting with the champagne hem of her hijab. “Lane, it’s the same boy from my visitations.”
“But that doesn’t make any sense,” Delaney countered. “You told us you saw that boy get ripped apart—”
“The same day you met Nate,” Mackenzie finished for her. “In the Sanctum.”
Something cold crawled into Delaney’s skin. She glanced over at Colton and found him watching her, his face bloodless. “Colton?”
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“You knew?”
“I tried to tell you.”
