“No. Nope. Definitely not.”
Sierra was in a bad mood, and she had no qualms taking it out on her teammates. They’d only scored one snag, while Team Dread had swept up three. That gave them far too many advantages. Seeing Carter puke all over Jarius might have helped Sierra feel better if she wasn’t sure that something was off about the way that drink had hit Carter last night. It had happened too fast, and Carter had been completely out of it when the car brought them back to the villas. Something wasn’t right.
Worst of all, Sierra hadn’t had any opportunities to check out Elijah and Lisa’s terrace. There was always someone around, and Elijah’s window was right off the patio, so no hope of searching when he was asleep. The only time she’d managed to get out there while he and Lisa were at dinner, the gate had been locked.
Sheneededto get to that terrace.
“What’s going on?” Adi appeared, hair freshly damp from the shower.
“Evidently Sierra is making us breakfast?” Beck said, with an exaggerated shrug.
Adi looked equally suspicious as he took in the scene. “Why are we not eating in the dining hall?”
“What? A leader can’t make breakfast for her team?”
Adi stage-whispered to Beck, “Is she trying to poison us?”
But Beck, who had taken a bite of bacon, moaned giddily. “I dunno, but O-M-G, why does this taste so good?”
“I soaked it in maple syrup.” Sierra smiled sweetly. “It covers the taste of the arsenic.”
Beck stopped chewing. Then he shrugged and swallowed. “Worth it.”
“Real talk,” she said. “I don’t trust the executive producers not to mess with the food. Like I told Beck before, some people got food poisoning right before last season’s finale. I’d bet anything it was done on purpose. You know. For thedrama.” She danced her fingers along with the word.
“You sound paranoid,” said Adi.
“My sister was left dead in a coffin, and you think I’m paranoid?”
“Fair point.”
The boys took their plates to the dining table as Sierra headed down the corridor. She knocked on the bedroom door. “Carter?”
No answer.
Sierra opened up. Carter had been breathing through the night and continued to do so now. Sierra used her foot to nudge the trash can away from the bed—she’d put it there in case Carter needed to vomit again.
A croaky voice said from under the blanket, “I don’t feel so good.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“What happened?”
Sierra pulled off the blanket. “We got a car back from the party. Hopefully before any executive producers caught wind of the incident.”
Carter flung an arm over her eyes. Her hair was beginning to frizz out of the bonnet that Sierra had clumsily put on her last night. “What incident?”
“You threw up on Jarius.”
“I—what?” Carter’s arm flung away again. Her eyes were wide and slightly red.
“You remember Fitzy buying you a drink, right?” Sierra said darkly.
“Yes, but . . . not much after that. And it wasn’t alcohol!” Carter rolled out of bed, staggering slightly, then pulled off her bonnet. “I swear.”
“Come on.” Sierra ushered her out the door, to the dining table where Beck and Adi were halfway through their eggs. “Sit. Eat.”
“Ish sho good,” Beck said through his bulging cheeks.
