“Shit, yeah,” I agree. That doesn’t look good. We ourselves thought she was guilty of it at first. So I don’t blame her. Plus, who are we to judge? It’s not like we rushed off to the cops when we found a body. I mean, at points I thought it wasn’t real, but it was. Now that Grant’s been arrested, it’s really real.
“Did you kill her?” Luke asks again. I’m going to kill him when we get out of here.
“No!” Emily’s voice cracks. “But I have proof of what she did to me. Photos, texts, emails. I was going to go to the police with it. Finally tell the truth. But now she’s dead, and I either did it or I’m just smearing her name posthumously.”
I glance over to Georgia. “Occurring after a person’s death.”
Right, I knew that.
Georgia steps forward, picking up one of the photos.
“Who told you that Murphy has a new victim?” I ask.
“Oh, an ex.” She rolls her eyes. “Kind of an ex. I don’t know. We were friends and fooled around, but I’m definitely gay. He was the one that kind of helped me figure that out. Nonetheless, he wasn’t too happy when I pumped the brakes and told him that. I actually opened up to him some, but then shit got weird, and I cut contact when I left town.”
Luke and I share a look. “Who was it?” I ask because he must still be around if he knows Murphy has been sleeping with another student.
“Oh, it’s a local, Joey.” She nods in the direction of town. “His family owns the auto shop.”
How does the plot keep thickening?
Chapter Thirty-Six
LUKE
My phone buzzes before we reach the car. I get three alerts in rapid succession—the school mass text, Bennett, and some email from the administration.
Due to ongoing circumstances, all students must return to campus by 6 PM. Early curfew in effect.
“Shit,” Madeline says, reading her own phone’s alert. “They’re locking us down.”
Georgia’s already sliding into the back seat, reading her own phone. I start the engine, checking the time: 5:49. We can make it.
“Grant texted me,” Georgia says suddenly. “He’s back at the dorms. They let him go.”
I roll to a stop at the light and glance back at her. “How?”
“Guess they didn’t have enough to hold him.” She shrugs. “He’s back in your room.” She pauses. “He wants to explain everything to us.”
Madeline twists in her seat but leaves the seat belt on.Good girl. I don’t say that out loud. Not the time. “Explain what?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “He just said he needs to talk to us. About why he went back.” I have this sense there is moreshe’s not telling. Georgia is always reserved, but she’s been extra quiet this past hour.
The sun’s setting, painting the sky in bruised purples.
We don’t speak the whole ride. Georgia’s staring at her phone like it might bite her. Madeline keeps glancing back, worried, but she doesn’t push. We’re all about to find out.
I park illegally outside the dorms—fuck it—and we head up the stairs. Third floor. My key’s already in my hand. When I push open the door, Grant’s sitting on my bed when we burst in.
He’s fine, like nothing happened. A strange relief fills me that he’s okay. Grant lifts his hand, a chain with a small charm on it hanging between two fingers.
Georgia stops dead in the doorway. Her hand flies to her mouth. “You found it,” she whispers, but it’s loud as she rushes forward. “That’s why you went back?”
Grant stands, sheepish, holding out the bracelet. “Yeah. I, uh... you mentioned you lost it, so I went to go find it. Guess I got lucky.” Grant is always so unfazed and chill. He’s not that at this moment, and that clearly has everything to do with Georgia.
“So you went back at four a.m.?” I ask, my voice hard. “To a fucking murder scene? For a bracelet?” The fuck is wrong with him? He could have run into whoever it was that was lurking around that night.
“Don’t even act like you wouldn’t have done the same thing if it were Madeline’s, Luke.” His expression is one of,Areyoufucking kidding me?
