“And that’s anX9 tower, liquid-cooled,” he adds, disbelief threading through his voice. His fingers hover near the glass panel but don’t touch it. Inside the case, a soft glow pulses through braided tubes like some kind of mechanical bloodstream. “Quantum-tier GPU stack, dual processors. This whole rig probably costs more than my first car.”
My stomach tightens as he straightens. I don’t know anything Everest just said, or how he knows all of that. All I do know is the man who gifted it to me either sourced it or the money to pay for it illegally, and that I miss him. Clearing my throat, I cross my arms over my chest.
“What did you want to give me a head’s up about?”
Thankfully, Everest drops it and he swivels to face me.
“There’s a vigil tomorrow night for Laura. My parents said something about support and solidarity. We’re expected to be at the forefront, handing out candles and offering hope.” Everest leans back, rubbing his eyes. There it is again, the exhaustion. The anguish he’s struggling to hide. I slump onto my bed, bouncing slightly.
“Why are they really hosting it?”
“Because another girl has gone missing, and the last place she was seen was at my house.” There’s an accusation in his tone but he doesn’t put it into words. He told me to care for her. He knows this is my fault as much as anyone else.
I stare at him, my brain stalling on the image of what tomorrow night will hold. Candles flickering in the dark, crowds gathered in solemn silence, someone’s voice cracking through a microphone about unity and community strength. The sort of thing that looks beautiful in photographs, but does absolutely nothing to help find Laura.
For a moment, neither of us speak. My earlier thread of good mood unravels completely. Just hours ago, I’d been on the field shouting orders, pretending for a little while that life hadreturned to something normal. Now the reminder of Laura’s disappearance crashes back into place. She was so sweet and bubbly. Against a man like Harrison, she doesn’t stand a chance.
“Where is it?” I ask.
“Central courtyard. My parents want us to both wear a pop of lilac. It’s Laura’s favorite color.”
“How considerate,” I drawl sarcastically, rubbing my palms over my face. Exhaustion drags at my limbs, but I’m in no rush for Everest to leave. It’s oddly comforting to not be sitting here alone, if only briefly. When I lift my eyes from the carpet, I notice that Everest is watching me. Something unreadable flickers across his face, gone in an instant.
The overhead light highlights his sunken eyes and throws the stubble of his jaw into shadow. For once, the cocky arrogance he usually wears is absent. He just sits there, hands loose against his thighs, seemingly beat after seeing his parents. A thread of sympathy slips through me. It must be tough having to live up to someone else’s expectations all the time instead of only your own. And also, I really should call my mom soon. Not that I have anything good to report.
“Everest,” I start after a while, and then think twice, recoiling into myself. His brow raises, but I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter. It’s stupid and incredibly vain.”
His green gaze sharpens immediately, like a predator scenting vulnerability. He sits upright, leaning his forearms on his thighs.
“Ask me,” he insists, his tone firm as if he already knows the question and just wants to hear me say it out loud. I swallow, suddenly aware of how dry my mouth is. My tongue wets my bottom lip before I can stop myself.
“Was there…a vigil for me?”
The question hangs in the air, my innermost fragility out there for Everest to trample all over. His expression shifts insmall, almost imperceptible ways. His shoulders tightening, his jaw flexing once as he looks at the wall beyond my head. When his eyes finally return to mine, the usual mockery is gone.
“Do you know that I was the one to find your blood trail?” he asks quietly, and I suck in a breath. I didn’t know that. “There was so much of it, streaked all over the lino, so much brighter than I would have expected. I knew it had to be yours before the cops confirmed it. You’re the only one who would have been running drills alone near midnight. You were so damn committed.” Everest’s jaw flexes again, emotions I can’t read circling his features. “There wasn’t a vigil, but no one felt your absence more than me. I can assure you of that.”
The words slam into me with a weight I wasn’t prepared for. I blink at him, trying to read the meaning behind his words, but Everest has already pushed to his feet.. He drags a hand through his hair, the motion rougher than usual as if he regrets letting that much truth show.
“Get some sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be a circus.” He’s left before I can utter a single syllable, and luckily before the drop of a tear rolls down my cheek. Everest missed me? Everest…cares? That’s what I believe he just admitted.
I sit there for a few seconds longer than necessary, staring at the spot where he’d been before flopping back into my bed, the quiet of my room pressing in from all sides. Tears fall freely, a whole days’ worth pouring out in silent sobs. I can handle people hating me, I take disappointment in my stride, but my rival admits he cares for me and I’m a weeping mess. It’s at that exact moment I realize how truly broken I am.
Chapter Twenty Six
I pause just in front of a floral archway leading into the courtyard, straightening the cuffs of my coat as I take it all in. My mother, as she demands I call her, has really outdone herself this time. The entire courtyard looks like it’s been pulled straight from a magazine that did a side piece of mourning for the elite.
Rows of white chairs are arranged in a semicircle around a temporary podium, delicate strings of lights draped between the trees, and a long table covered in lilac ribbons where volunteers hand out candles. Even the flowers placed along the fountain’s edge are lilacs, their sweet scent clinging to the damp air.
One of my father’s poor PA’s was set on the task of deep-diving into Laura’s life, crafting an event to her exactpreferences. Seems like an utter waste of time to me, she’s not even going to be here to see it. I, on the other hand, zoned out through my classes and numbly retreated back to my frat house after lunch, waiting for the inevitable. The memories that plague me.
My confession to Meg last night was the first time I’ve expressed how her disappearance affected me. The truth is, when she was suddenly absent from my life, something inside my carefully constructed world shattered. It didn't matter how closely I watched on, how I goaded her to keep being her best, how I planned out the next few years of our surface-level rivalry, it was all blown to shit. The strongest, iron-willed, most obstinate person I knew was gone, replaced by journalists and news crews.
I carried on with practices, sat through classes, gave interviews, fulfilled every obligation that comes with the Calloway name, while a slow, gnawing dread hollowed out my ribs from the inside. As weeks passed, I became deadened to those around me, simply going through the motions. I knew she would put up a good fight, that her stubborn resolve would serve her well, but no one is unbreakable.
Then, weeks later, the news finally came that she’d be found alive. Meg had escaped, but her survival was only just beginning. And yet, here we are again, standing in the midst of another missing girl. I may not have known this freshman, but she was last seen in my domain, at a party I permitted her to attend. My parents see it as another failure on my part, and I can’t disagree.
Speak of the devil…
