Chapter 20
By the time we made it back to the main hall, Jasmine knew everything.
She’d listened without interrupting as I laid out Rhys’s theory, her expression tightening more and more the further I got into it.
“Do you think he might be right?” I asked quietly as we stepped inside.
“I think it makes a disturbing amount of sense,” she muttered. “Which I hate. Because it means we’re probably not even close to getting out of this.”
The rest of the day settled into something that almost looked normal from the outside. Most of us stayed in the assembly hall, pulled into loose conversations or half-hearted card games; anything to keep our hands busy and our minds from spiraling too far.
No one wanted to be alone. Every so often, someone would glance toward the door or the windows, like they were expecting the search teams to come back at any second. Or worse… not come back at all.
Time dragged, every hour feeling longer than the last. At some point in the late afternoon, Caitlin clapped her hands together from the kitchen doorway, forcing a brightness into her voice that didn’t quite land.
“Okay, so, I’ve been doing an inventory,” she said. “And we need to use up all the tomatoes before they go bad. So… how about a burger and bruschetta night?”
There was a beat of silence. Then, slowly, a few people perked up.
“That sounds really good,” Tamsin said. “Hopefully the guys are back by the time we’re done cooking.”
For a little while, the tension eased as people moved around more, helping in the kitchen. By the time the food was ready, the light outside had started to fade again, the sky slipping into that muted grey-blue that made everything feel a little more uncertain.
Jasmine caught my eye across the room and tilted her head toward the door. I nodded.
We moved casually, grabbing a couple of burgers and wrapping them quickly before anyone paid too much attention. Then we slipped out, timing it between conversations so it didn’t look like we were making a coordinated exit.
When we reached the groundskeeper’s cabin, Jasmine rapped lightly on the door. Nothing.
She waited a second, then knocked again, a little louder this time.
Still nothing.
I frowned. “Maybe he’s napping?”
“Or in the shower,” she said, shrugging.
“Yeah.”
We both stood there for another few seconds, listening. No movement. No sound.
A flicker of unease curled low in my stomach, but I forced it down. There were plenty of normal explanations. There had to be.
“We really can’t hang around this time,” Jasmine muttered. “If someone notices we’ve suddenly disappeared before dinner…”
I sighed. “I know.”
I crouched, setting the wrapped food down beside the door, tucking it slightly out of sight. “He’ll see it,” I said, more to reassure myself than anything else.
“Yeah.” Jasmine nodded. “Come on.”
We turned and headed back the way we’d come, a little faster this time.
I didn’t look back, but I still felt a creeping mix of guilt and unease, slipping in under everything else.
What if the killer—or killers—had figured out that Rhys was actually alive and hiding out in that cabin? What if they’d done something to him? And I’d just… walked away. Not even made an effort to check.
I took a deep breath, trying to push the fears aside. It was probably nothing. Rhys was just showering or sleeping, like Jasmine and I initially suspected. He was fine.
He had to be.
The mood amongst the rest of the group had shifted by the time the food actually hit the tables in the dining hall. The earlier flicker of excitement hadn’t lasted long. Not once it became obvious that not everyone from today’s search team had made it back.
Most of the guys had gone out, splitting into six pairs.
Knox and Chris hadn’t returned.
“They’re probably being extra careful,” Garrett said for the third time, like if he repeated it enough it might turn true.
“Yeah,” Simon added quickly. “Or maybe they actually found something out in the woods, and they’re still picking it up. Or taking photos.”
No one really believed it. There were too many glances toward the door. Too many people checking the time. Too many conversations that kept trailing off.
By the time the clock hit eight, Knox and Chris were still missing.
Jasmine nudged my elbow lightly. “Kitchen,” she murmured under her breath.
I nodded and followed her, grabbing an empty cup as we slipped away from the table. The second we were out of earshot, she turned to me. “We need to talk about this.”
“I know,” I said quietly, leaning against the counter. “If those guys don’t come back soon—”
“They’re both Legacies,” she cut in bluntly. “If Rhys’s theory is accurate, then that could mean Brad and Olivia got to them out in the woods. So… I think it’s time we tell the others.”
I nodded slowly, stomach churning. “Before something else happens.”
“Exactly. The other Legacies need to be warned that they’re probably the main targets here.”
I hesitated. “How are we going to explain how we came up with the theory?”
Jasmine grimaced. “Good point. I guess we can’t exactly say, oh hey, Rhys told us. Surprise, he’s not actually dead!”
“And I can’t claim it either,” I said, shaking my head. “I didn’t even know about the Brad and Olivia Olympics story until today, because… why would I? I’m new here.”
“Yeah, it’d be weird if you tried to claim it,” she muttered, scratching her head. She paused for a moment, then shrugged. “I guess I’ll just have to say it’s my theory. I’ve been here for years, so I know all the backstory stuff. It’ll track.”
I nodded slowly. “Okay. Yeah. That works.”
Jasmine grabbed her drink and straightened. “All right. Let’s ruin everyone’s appetites.”
When we stepped back into the dining hall, Jasmine didn’t ease into it. Didn’t wait for a lull in conversation or try to be subtle. She just clapped her hands once, sharp enough to cut through the room.
“Can I get everyone’s attention for a second?” she said.
Heads turned. Conversations stilled.
“I’ve been thinking about something since last night,” she went on. “About who the killer might be. And before anyone says it, I know we’ve all been throwing around theories, but I think this one actually lines up.”
“Just say it,” Sutton said snidely.
Jasmine took a deep breath. “I think it might be Brad and Olivia.”
For a moment, everyone was silent. Then Sutton spoke again, eyes narrowed. “They’re dead, you fucking idiot.”
“Are they?” Jasmine shot back. “Because no one actually saw them die.”
“That doesn’t mean they’re murdering people,” Levi said, though he didn’t sound completely convinced.
Jasmine pushed on. “Think about it. They volunteered to go into town that first night. They’re both endurance athletes, so no one questioned it.”
“Yeah, because it made sense,” Simon said.
“Exactly,” she replied. “Which also makes it the perfect cover if they didn’t actually want to go to town.”
A few people shifted in their seats, uneasy now.
“Okay, but why?” Caitlin asked. “Why would they do this?”
Jasmine’s forehead creased. “Because of what happened two summers ago. You guys remember the Olympic trials thing, right?”
“Oh shit,” Tamsin murmured. “I forgot all about that.”
“So… you think they came back for revenge?” Jesse asked.
“Well, I think it’s a hell of a coincidence that only Legacies have been killed so far,” Jasmine said flatly.
I could practically hear the gears turning in everyone’s heads. Doubt. Fear. Possibility.
Before anyone could say anything, the dining hall door slammed open, and every head snapped toward it.
Chris staggered inside. He was pale and shaky, and his clothes were streaked with dark, drying blood that caught the light in uneven patches.
“Oh, fuck. What happened?” Garrett said, already pushing back his chair.
Chris lifted both hands slightly, like he was bracing for impact. “It’s not mine,” he said, voice rough. “It’s not my blood.”
“Where’s Knox?” Sutton demanded, already on her feet.
Chris didn’t answer straight away. His chest was rising too fast, like he couldn’t quite get enough air.
“Chris,” Sutton said, sharper now. “Where the hell is he?”
Chris dragged a hand through his hair, smearing something dark across his temple without seeming to notice. “We were in the woods,” he finally said. “Same area we checked before. Just going over it again, making sure we didn’t miss anything.”
No one spoke. No one even breathed too loudly.
“He was right behind me,” Chris went on. “Like, just a couple of steps back. We were talking, and then…” He swallowed hard. “He stopped answering.”
A chill slid through me.
“I thought he was just messing with me at first,” he said. “So I turned around and…” His voice hitched, and he shook his head. “He was gone.”
“Shit,” Jesse muttered.
“I called out to him,” Chris continued, breathing harder now. “Walked back the way we came. Checked everywhere. I thought maybe he’d tripped, or wandered off, or…” He trailed off again, jaw tightening. “I looked for ages.”
“And?”
Chris’s gaze flicked around the room, like he didn’t want to say it out loud. Then he exhaled shakily. “I found him,” he said. “He was hanging from a tree.”
A sharp, collective intake of breath rippled through the room.
“He was upside down,” he added with a wince, like the details were clawing their way out of him. “Hanging by his ankles.”
“Oh my god,” Wren whispered.
Chris swallowed again, hard enough that it looked painful. “His throat was…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “It was cut.”
“No,” Maren muttered. “No way.”
“I tried to… ” Chris dragged a hand down his face. “Fuck, I don’t even know what I was trying to do. I just… I froze. Couldn’t move for ages.”
No one challenged him. No one here would’ve done any better.
“And then I suddenly realized…” He sucked in another deep breath. “I didn’t know where the hell I was anymore. I’d been running around looking for Knox for hours. Calling his name, doubling back. I got completely turned around. And it was starting to get dark.”
“Jesus,” Simon muttered, rubbing his forehead.