Chapter Twenty-Four
TWENTY-FOUR
We find the recording. Jayden got kicked out so fast that he never had time to retrieve it. And since he was already being expelled—and had confessed to luring me—maybe there was no point bothering with the recording.
It’s a tiny speaker with a prerecorded clip. Maddox says it can be triggered by a Bluetooth connection. It can also be triggered manually. We do that.
“Yeah,” Maddox’s voice says. “That tracks. Let me see if I can—”
It ends there.
“That’s definitely me,” Maddox says. “No idea who I was talking to.”
“Jayden or Natalia?”
“I never talked to Natalia. And I’d only ever spoken to Jayden when I was telling him to back the fuck off someone. I sound calm there.” He frowns, plays it again, and shakes his head. “Let me take it. I’d like to figure this out.”
“You take the audio clip, and I get the burned paper. Two more mini-mysteries for our copious free time.”
—
The next morning, I’m called into the office at the start of lunch. I don’t know what it is about school-office summons, but even though I have never been called down for any misconduct, my gut goes cold every time, my brain racing through every minor misdemeanor I’ve committed.
Okay, at Westdale, I might have more reason to worry, given that I’ve been hanging out in a secret clubhouse, poking around the basement, and investigating the death of two past students.
I get to Ms. Dimitriou’s office to find Theo already there. He shoots me a thumbs-up, too low for the principal to see, and I exhale under my breath.
“Liliana,” Ms. Dimitriou says, “I was just telling Theo how delighted the board is by the publicity you two got this weekend.”
“Oh? Uh, that’s good,” I say as I slide into the chair.
She beams. “It is wonderful to see two young people getting so much positive press. Of course, Westdale doesn’t need that press. We are known worldwide for our stellar education. And it’s not as if we need to drum up admissions.”
She gives a little laugh, and we oblige by smiling.
“Still,” she says, “a positive light on our school sheds a positive light on our graduates.” She lifts her phone and flips through the screen.
“You were both commended for everything from your poise to your articulate conversation to your fundraising efforts in conjunction with Polly. And Theo’s little poetry recital?
” She puts a hand to her heart. “We couldn’t have orchestrated better advertising for our school. ”
“I’m glad the response is positive,” I say. “Though I’m sure there were a few digs.”
She waves a hand. “We understand trolls. Any notable source who remarked on either of you had nothing but praise. And your mother, Theo? Have you seen her posts about Liliana?”
My heart jams in my throat. Trinity Nilsen posted about me?
“I don’t do socials,” Theo says, “but I presume they were good.”
“They were lovely. She posted a photo of the three of you and then one of her with Liliana, and she gushed. I know she’s your mom, Theo, which means you might expect that, but the board was still delighted. She is Trinity Nilsen, after all.”
“So I’ve heard,” he murmurs.
“I won’t keep you any longer. I just wanted you both to know how pleased the board is.”
—
As the week continues, I spend whatever spare time I have delving into Jenna’s case, with some forays into Annette’s and an hour or so continuing to scour the archives for “Janus Society.” Jenna’s death is the mystery that affects Maddox, so I focus on that.
I may get a little overly invested, to the point where the guys have to pull me back out—Theo by distracting me with games and conversation and Maddox by literally pulling me back…
from my laptop when he catches me in the library two nights in a row.
Of course, after Maddox pulls me back, we end up making out in one of the chairs until way past curfew, so I forgive him.
How am I dealing with dating two guys? Should I say it’s complicated and I’m conflicted and I feel really guilty? Yeah, no. It doesn’t feel a whole lot different than it did before. Sometimes I hang out with both of them. Sometimes it’s one of them. Sometimes there’s kissing.
All parties aware. All parties accepting. All parties consenting.
And all parties happy. That’s just as important.
I haven’t been truly happy since my dad died, but here at Westdale, that weight began to lift.
This week, I finally feel like myself again.
Theo’s exuberance has taken on a giddy, boyish edge that is great to see in a guy who I sometimes felt was years older than me instead of months.
And Maddox has thrown away his medication—
No, he hasn’t. I sometimes think that’s what people expect, that depression just means you need something to make you happy. Maddox is happy. I see more smiles and hear more laughter from him than I ever have. Like me, he’s lighter. Calmer.
Maddox and I also have deeper conversations now, about our losses—something we share that Theo can’t—and it helps us both to have a place where we can lower the walls and admit we’re still grieving.
Even those talks make us both lighter. But I know I’m not a “cure” for his problems. I know finding answers about Jenna won’t fix everything the way he might hope. I need to be ready for that, and I will be.
—
On Thursday, I’m enjoying quiet time with Isolde in her room.
It’s study break, but we’re both just reading our respective novels—ones we enjoyed ourselves and suggested to the other.
The one she recommended is science fiction, and I’m ashamed to say that my initial reaction had been “I don’t like science fiction,” though I hadn’t said so.
But I’m glad I gave it a shot because it turns out I just didn’t like the few examples I’d read.
This one is definitely my thing, with a teenage girl solving an interstellar mystery.
Because we’ve both read the other’s book, these sessions are like a cross between a read-along and a book club. We do something we’d hate for anyone else to do—talk to us while we’re reading.
“Oh!” Isolde says. “I know what’s going to happen.”
I grin over at her. “Bet you don’t.”
“I’m at the part where Maddie thinks she just saw Trent, who’s supposed to be dead. It’s either a ghost or a twin brother. Since there’s been no supernatural stuff mentioned—and I’m over halfway through—it’s gotta be a secret twin brother.”
“Right on the supernatural part. I love ghost stories, but having it appear mid-book is a cheat.”
“So, secret twin?”
“Mmm…”
She puts down the book. “Is Trent still alive? That’s not possible. He didn’t, like, die in a fire or something where his body could be misidentified.” Her eyes round. “Unless it was a secret twin who died.”
“Keep reading.”
She does, until the alarm we set goes off a few minutes later. Then she groans. “I was just at a good part. Now I need to wait until Saturday…” She trails off. “No, because we can’t co-read Saturday. I need to go home for the weekend again.”
“Ugh.”
She glances over and bites her lower lip. “Um, so, I hate to ask, but since you went out with Theo last weekend, is there any chance that means your curfew has been lifted?”
Guilt rockets through me. I’d totally forgotten what happened a few weeks ago, when Cecilia refused to let me go out with Isolde. Then Theo invites me to the gala and no one bats an eye?
I understand why Cecilia let me go. Since I asked about Isolde, I’ve publicly come out as the Chamberlain heiress and nothing has happened.
The gala trip was a safe way to test that—professional driver, ultra-exclusive event.
Naturally, I didn’t tell Cecilia I’d been grabbed in the back hall.
That was just Charles Dubois, but if I mentioned it, she might put me on lockdown again.
“I think I can get out,” I say. “Let me talk to Cecilia and Ms. Dimitriou.”
—
After dinner, Theo and I do the socializing thing before slipping out to the clubhouse to meet up with Maddox.
Now we’re stretched out, playing Mario Kart.
There’s still no full-sized couch. Theo is trying to figure out how to sneak one to the clubhouse.
For now, we’ve started pulling open the loveseat for more room.
Maddox and I are sitting up at the top, hips touching.
Theo is on his stomach, propped up on his forearms as he plays, his bare foot constantly tapping my shoulder, which might be sweet, if he didn’t always seem to do it when I was winning.
I remember when I was a kid, friends’ parents would give us shit for playing games rather than talking.
Which proved they weren’t within earshot, because pretty much all we did was talk.
Same here. We’re playing, but it doesn’t require our full concentration.
So we talk, the usual video game patter and completely unrelated conversation flowing seamlessly together.
“Isolde and I are doing something Saturday night,” I say.
Theo makes a sharp turn on screen. “Cool. I like Isolde. She gets overshadowed in the Liliths.”
More game play before Theo says, “What are you and Isolde planning? Bedroom bash?”
At Westdale, a bedroom bash is what it sounds like—two or more students having a mini-party in their room. If it’s Saturday night, the staff will turn a blind eye to empty beer bottles and lingering smoke.
“Going to Savannah, as long as we can get a pass.”
Maddox’s go-cart slows on screen. “Savannah? Doing what?”
I shrug. “Still considering our options. A band she likes is playing.”
“The two of you alone in Savannah at night? Absolutely not.”
Theo twists and levers up, hands raised even as I turn on Maddox. “He didn’t mean it like that, Lil.”
“Well, he said it like that.”
“Like what?” Maddox says.
“Like you’re forbidding her to go out,” Theo says. “Or to go out with a friend.”
“What? I never said that.”
“What else does ‘absolutely not’ mean?” I say.
Theo waves his hands. “Interpreter time. Obviously, he’s not forbidding you to leave Westdale, Lil. Or to go out with a friend. That would be”—he leans toward Maddox—“controlling.”
“I’m not—” Maddox begins.
“What he means is that we”—Theo slides a look Maddox’s way, as if telling me his “we” might slant in one direction—“would rather you didn’t go off-campus while we’re investigating the suspicious off-campus deaths of two female students.”
I sit back. “Okay, I get that. But presumably Jenna and Annette left alone. I’ll be with Isolde.”
Theo passes me another look. This one acknowledges that there are a dozen reasons why their deaths shouldn’t stop me from going to Savannah, but this isn’t about logic.
I glance at Maddox. He has his jaw clenched, face hard, ready to argue, and behind his scowl, I see fear.
“Is there a workaround?” I say. “I went out with you, Theo. Is it just girls I can’t go out with?”
“This has nothing to do with Isolde personally,” Maddox says.
“Isolde doesn’t know what’s going on,” Theo says. “She won’t be watching out for you. Could we make it a group trip? Then I can be there.” He leans toward me. “Haven’t you always wanted a hot bodyguard?”
I know he’s trying to ease the tension, but I shake my head.
“I get it,” I say. “I really do. But I invited Isolde. To add others seems like I realized I don’t want to spend a whole evening with her, so I’m buffering with mutual friends.”
“The trick, then, is to figure out how to bring me along without it seeming weird.”
“That I also invited my presumed boyfriend? Yeah, that’s all kinds of awkward.”
His brows shoot up. “Presumed? Ouch.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Nope, not sure I do.”
Now it’s Maddox lifting a hand, saying he’s not getting involved, as Theo glances his way for support.
I sigh. “I meant that others presume you’re my boyfriend, but we haven’t actually said or done anything to make it official. Let me rephrase. It would be super-awkward for me to invite my boyfriend on an outing with a friend. Also a red flag. And if he invites himself? Hoist that red flag high.”
Before they can answer, a text comes in on my phone. As I read it, my shoulders slump. “Never mind. Cecilia says no. The gala was different because of the security.”
Maddox makes a noise of satisfaction.
I glare at him. “Don’t sound so happy. How am I going to explain this to Isolde? I understand that the gala was a secure outing, but it’ll seem as if I’m allowed out with guy friends but not girl ones. Or, worse, that I tried harder for Theo than for her.”
“You’re right,” Maddox says. “I’m sorry.”
“Same,” Theo says. “I really do think it’d be good for you and Isolde to get out together. Let me give Cecelia a call, see if it makes a difference if it’s a group outing.”
—
Cecilia actually agrees to Theo’s revised version, though I think that’s only partly because it’ll involve more people—and therefore be safer. It helps that he’s just so damn persuasive. As long as I’m in a group of at least four, including Theo, I can go.
The next part is also tricky. I need to tell Isolde that I invited her on a Saturday night for two, and now it’ll be a group event.
Isolde and I are outside on the front steps for Friday morning break. Theo is playing one-on-one with Kai while others watch, reminding me of the day I arrived. Others have found spots to hang out, leaving Isolde and me alone on the steps.
“So, Cecilia vetoed the weekend outing for two—her usual security concerns—but I can go if it’s part of a group. I argued, but she’s not budging. Is a group okay? Theo and Polly have agreed. We can invite Allegra, too. Maybe Kai? I was also thinking of Brandon from the Apollos.”
She only says, “Ah,” in a tone that says I’ve blown this.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “It’s the only way I could get a pass and—” I stop. “Shit. If it’s not just you and me this weekend, will your parents still insist you go home?”
“That’s what I was thinking. Personally I don’t mind having others. It’ll be fun.” She chews her bottom lip. “No, this could work. I’ll say you and I are going out, and others thought it sounded fun and went to the same place.”
I nod. “We’ll get selfies with just us for socials. And Polly can tweak her coverage to sound as if the others went separately and met up with us. Does that work?”
She smiles. “It does.”