Chapter 16 #2
“Yeah, yeah, you’re just pointing out facts. We all heard you,” Wren said, voice dripping with disgust. “I really wish we didn’t, though.”
“We can’t ignore this!” Sutton fired back, her voice rising now. “Do you really think it’s a coincidence that people started dying as soon as the new counselors showed up?”
“I never even met Alissa or Simon before I applied here!” Grayson cut in, pushing to his feet. “So how the hell would we be working together to kill people? And why?”
Sutton lifted a hand, like she was trying to rein the conversation back in. “Let me finish.”
Grayson didn’t sit down.
“Simon and Grayson, you’re both local,” she went on. “So it makes sense that you know about Camp Blackpine and ended up applying here. So I’m actually willing to give you both the benefit of the doubt. For now.”
“Wow, thanks,” Simon spat out.
Sutton’s gaze slid back to me, narrowing slightly.
“But Alissa… you’re a real outlier, aren’t you?” she said. “You’re not local to the area. You’re not an ex-camper, either. You just showed up out of nowhere from Montana.” Her lips pressed together. “So how exactly did you end up here? And why?”
Heat flooded my face and neck, and I could feel every pair of eyes on me. I knew I hadn’t killed anyone, but I felt guilty anyway. Like this humiliating kangaroo court Sutton had created was some sort of karmic retribution for my false accusation against Rhys.
“I’ve answered that question already. Multiple times,” I said stiffly.
“I haven’t lived in Montana for three years, because I go to NYU now.
So I didn’t just show up in New York out of nowhere.
And one of my professors overheard me asking about summer jobs.
He knows the camp owner and offered to put in a good word for me. So that’s how I ended up here.”
Sutton’s brows lifted slightly. “Convenient.”
Jasmine swore under her breath. “Are you actually hearing yourself right now?”
“I’m just saying,” Sutton went on, her voice sharpening, “if someone wanted access to a group like this, somewhere isolated, somewhere people already trusted each other enough not to question things too closely… this would be a pretty perfect setup.”
Something hot and volatile flared in my chest.
“You sound completely unhinged,” Tamsin said, glaring at Sutton. “Also, Alissa was with us for the last three hours, so—”
“Let’s not forget what I said earlier,” Sutton cut in, raising her voice just enough to talk over her. Her gaze never left me. “You were very quick to suggest that the killer might be one of us. Like you needed a distraction.”
That did it. The pressure that had been building inside me snapped, and before I could stop myself, I was on my feet.
“You know what?” I said, my voice shaking despite the heat burning through me. “If we’re going to start throwing around accusations like this, then maybe it’s time you told us what the hell happened here last year! Because I’m starting to think that’s what all of this is about!”
Sutton recoiled slightly. “What?”
“I saw the way some of you reacted to that so-called prank on the first night,” I said, my gaze sweeping around the circle before locking onto her again.
“And I heard you and Delia arguing about it. She didn’t think it was a prank, and it sounded like she had a very good reason to think something was wrong. ”
A flicker of unease passed through a few of the Legacies.
“And then there was the way you acted when you talked to me about Carly Martin. You were cagey as hell,” I went on, my voice hardening. “So don’t stand there and act like I’m the suspicious one. If there’s something going on here, it didn’t start with me.”
Sutton stared at me, her mouth slightly open.
“This can’t be about Carly,” Grace suddenly blurted out. “Rhys wasn’t even there that night. He was sick, remember? So why would the killer go after him and—”
She froze. Her hand flew to her mouth, but it was too late. Every head in the circle turned toward her, including mine.
“What night?” I asked coolly. “Are you talking about the night Carly died?”
Grace’s gaze dropped to her lap, fingers twisting together. “I didn’t mean…”
Sutton shot her a look so sharp it could’ve sliced her open. Then she drew in a slow breath and lifted her chin. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll tell you all the truth.”
A ripple went through the group.
“You can’t!” Jensen said. “We agreed—”
Sutton cut him off with a raised hand. “It’s fine.” Her jaw tightened. “It’s time we told the truth.”
The room fell silent.
“Last year, on the night Carly Martin drowned… we didn’t go to bed early like the rest of you,” she went on, gesturing faintly to the other Legacies. “We had a bonfire out in the woods. Just us. We didn’t invite anyone else.”
“Of course you didn’t,” Jasmine muttered under her breath.
“Rhys didn’t come,” Sutton said. “He was sick that night, so he actually did go to bed early. The rest of us went out there to drink.” She paused. “But we still did our rounds. Every twenty minutes, two of us would go back to check the cabins. Make sure the kids were okay.”
“But they clearly weren’t,” Caitlin said, eyes narrowing.
Sutton lifted a palm. “They were,” she insisted. “When we put the fire out, around one-thirty, everyone was in their beds. Carly included. So we were all asleep by the time she sneaked out. None of us saw or heard anything.”
“Why lie, then?” Wren shot back. “Why tell everyone you had an early night?”
“Because we knew exactly how it would look!” Sutton snapped, throwing her hands up.
“How the hell do you think people would react if they found out we’d been drinking in the woods all night?
We’d be utterly crucified! Painted as negligent assholes whose irresponsibility led to a kid’s death, even though that’s not actually what happened!
We really were asleep when Carly sneaked out. ”
A few of the Legacies shifted uncomfortably.
“So anyway… we made a pact with each other,” Sutton said. “We agreed to lie and say we all went to bed early, just like the rest of you guys. No fire. No alcohol. Nothing.”
The other Legacies nodded, but none of them met anyone’s eyes. They wouldn’t even look at each other.
They were still holding something back, and I was willing to bet I knew exactly what it was.
They’d probably all been awake when Carly slipped out of the cabin, too drunk and distracted to notice she was gone until it was too late, and now they were clinging to a version of the story that kept them just far enough removed from blame.
“Okay, hold on.” Wren pushed to her feet, lifting a hand like she was physically trying to steady the room.
“Let’s just say, for the sake of argument, that Alissa’s theory is right, and the killer is targeting the counselors they think are responsible for Carly’s death.
” She glanced around the circle, brows furrowed.
“Grace had a good point before. Why would they go after Rhys if he wasn’t even at the bonfire that night? ”
“I think he probably holds all the counselors responsible,” Caitlin said flatly. “Not just the ones who were drinking at the fire.”
“Yeah,” Tamsin said, arms folding tightly across her chest. “If he thinks we covered up the truth together, then it wouldn’t matter who was actually there. He thinks we’re all guilty by association.”
“Great!” Jasmine snapped, letting out a harsh laugh that didn’t sound remotely amused. “Now we’re all at risk of getting hacked up because of you Legacy fuckwads!”
“Well,” Sutton shot back coolly, gesturing to the cluster of Legacies again, “at least we can safely rule out one thing.”
“Oh my god,” Jasmine muttered. “Here we go.”
“It’s not one of us killing people,” Sutton finished, her tone sharpening. “And honestly, at this point, I’d say we’re getting a lot closer to figuring out who is.”
“I swear to god, if you say Alissa’s name again, I’ll—”
“Oh, I wasn’t going to say Alissa,” Sutton cut in. “I was going to say you.”
Jasmine blinked. “What?”
“We all know how much you hate us Legacies. You’ve never made much of a secret of it.”
“That doesn’t make me a murderer!”
“It could. And it might not even be about Carly,” Sutton said, arching a brow. “I mean, we all know you resent us for having money. And money is the center of the world, isn’t it? People kill for it all the time. So maybe that resentment of yours festered over the years, until you finally snapped.”
“You can’t seriously believe that bullshit,” Jasmine muttered, rolling her eyes.
“Guys, come on!” Caitlin stood abruptly, both hands coming up in a placating gesture. “Let’s not start a full-on class warfare thing right now. It’s only going to make things worse.”
“She’s right,” I said, forcing my voice to stay steady. “Also, Jasmine can’t be the killer. She was with me, Tamsin, and Wren when Rhys was killed. And she was with me all night when Sloane and Reid…” I trailed off, swallowing. “It’s not her.”
A few heads nodded. The tension didn’t disappear, but it shifted, losing some of its sharpest edges.
Caitlin exhaled slowly, then looked around the circle again.
“I have an idea,” she said. “Let’s go around the group, one by one, and figure out who was where when the murders happened, and if someone else was with them to back them up.
That way, we’ll know who has an alibi and who doesn’t.
And if it turns out we all have an alibi, which I suspect will be the case, then we can agree to stop accusing each other. Okay?”
“Fine,” Sutton muttered, folding her arms. “Let’s do it.”
Caitlin gestured to the person on her left. “You start,” she said. “Where were you after Sloane and Reid left the fire last night?”
It was slow going at first, people stumbling over details, second-guessing times and glancing at each other like they were afraid of saying the wrong thing.
But gradually, everyone accounted for themselves for the time in which Sloane and Reid’s murder had to have occurred, and there was always at least one person who could back them up.