“I’m certain the new investment fund Senator Bain is backing is breaking all kinds of laws too,” Lila added. “The return is way too good to be true, so I’m guessing they’re trading information, inflating prices, the whole thing.”
“Let’s focus on Marsden and the admissions piece for now. You’ve got real evidence there.”
“I can’t wait to take Matthew DuPont down,” Lila said.
“And Greystone,” Austin agreed. “I can’t wait to watch those overprivileged assholes fail for once in their lives.”
I pressed my back against the books, heart loud in my throat. What had happened to make her want to go to war against the Society like this? If Matthew’s shady business practices were exposed, everything else would start to come out too—the girls doing drugs with Alex Bain, the money I’d accepted from Mrs. Fuller. Our reputation. Our future.
Panicking, I slipped into the bathroom down the hall and hid in the first stall, quickly typing a text to Daisy:NEED TO TALK NOW!
Daisy responded right away:Meet us in Cecily’s room.
—
“I know Austin,”Kai said, after I told the girls about what I’d heard. “She’s the editor in chief ofThe Prince.”
“What does that mean for Greystone?” Daisy asked.
“It’s not good,” Kai said. “All the money we have is provided by the Legacy Foundation. The staff, the building, our member fees, loans, it’s all from that foundation. Greystone can’t exist without it.” I thought of the job offer I’d gotten from Mrs. Fuller—and the ten-thousand-dollar check I’d cashed—and felt weak.
Daisy twisted a strand of hair in her fingers, eyes darting between the girls. “What about the photos of us with Alex Bain?”
Fear and dread wound themselves in my gut. “We could all be expelled,” I said.
“Not just expelled,” Kai said. “We could end up in prison.”
“The dean of admissions was in Greystone too,” I told them. “Matthew’s been paying him to let in kids of Greystone alumni…If that gets out, it’ll be all over the news.”
Cecily suddenly stood.
I watched her grab her bag and head for the door. “Where are you going?”
She didn’t turn around. “I’ll explain later.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Naomi
January 2023, four months before her death
Liam and I find Zeecrumpled on the sidewalk across the street, heels splayed next to her.
“Zee!” I shout, dashing across the busy street. An angry driver swerves around me, laying on his horn. I shout and give him the finger.
Zee lifts her head—mascara is smeared down her cheeks—and tears up again. When I reach her, she’s muttering something to herself, something aboutso wastedandnot good.
“Come on, let’s get you home.” I pull out my phone to call an Uber.
A few minutes later, Liam pulls his motorcycle over next to us.
“Is she okay?” he asks.
“Yeah. It’s been a rough night. I called an Uber.”
Ten minutes later, the car arrives. Liam hauls one of Zee’s arms, and I have the other, but she’s not making it easy.
When we’ve managed to get her seated, the driver turns around and frowns at Zee. “No.”
