Chapter 24 #2
Campus loves gossip, and she’s using that to her advantage, too.
The news is out that Andrew Rowen is missing.
Turns out, their father’s disappearance from his annual golf tournament is enough to cause alarm.
As a result, Krystal made herself a martyr.
The girl with the missing father who wants better for our campus with wellness circles and tea-making classes, and everyone’s eating it up. All while I try to stay relevant.
I thought we were a team. I thought the Rowens and I were in this together. Glancing at the text thread with Rye for the gazillionth time makes my stomach spin.
Hannah: please answer me
My last message to Rye. Still no word. No texts. No calls. Not even a ‘fuck off.’
I haven’t seen Mac or Gray since that night either. When I asked Ember if she's heard anything, she hesitated before answering a quick and simple, “No.”
My phone vibrates in my hand as I exit the school parking lot, walking towards the arts building.
Ember: Don’t take the bait
She hasn't said much lately, and right now, I have no idea what she's talking about. I'm too tired to care. Too exhausted to respond. I just want to get through this day while ensuring my GPA doesn't slip any further.
But as I enter the quad, this week gets weirder.
My heels slow as I scan the grassy area.
It’s empty. Eerily empty.
Lowering my shades, it’s getting harder to tell if I’m dreaming, a single squirrel scurrying by.
Where the hell is everyone?
The sound of applause comes from a distance. My brows lower as I tap the school calendar on my phone. I don’t see an assembly scheduled.
Following the sound, the applause becomes clearer and louder. It sounds like someone’s giving a speech or a rally, muffled words coming with cheers. I follow the noise all the way through the quad and around the sports building until I get to the football field.
That’s when I recognize the voice.
“I survived abuse.”
Krystal.
Her voice echoes over a speaker, the bleachers filled with students like it’s game night.
On the large screen near the massive scoreboard, Krystal stands at a podium dressed in black, commanding the crowd around her.
Some professors stand next to the bleachers, students mesmerized as she speaks.
My eyes narrow at my posse standing beside her.
“My father wasn’t a good man,” she says. “But his passing won’t be in vain.”
Her words slam into my chest as my stomach twists and my heels come to a stop.
Did I hear that right?
“My father is dead, but we learn from the mistakes of those before us.”
The ground tilts, my eyes scanning the space for Rye. I still don’t see him.
“No longer will this town stand for bullies and abuse,” she continues. “And that means in this school, too. For too long, we’ve allowed darkness to lead us, and after what I went through with my father, I plan on changing that.”
Looking back at my phone, I scan recent headlines, looking for answers.
Andrew Rowen Dead at 52 — The Hill Herald
Cinderfund CEO Dead — Paradise Post
My hands shake as I tap Rye’s name and bring the phone to my ear.
“There’s power in naming our abusers,” Krystal says. “Our bullies. The people who want to keep us down. I don’t think it’s a secret who those people are on this campus. So let’s name them together. I’ll start. Hannah Alfonso.”
Wait. What?
My eyes return to the podium to see Krystal staring right at me.
The crowd boos as a photo of me from freshman year flashes on the screen.
They’re followed by photos of me in royally unflattering positions.
Crossing my arms in front of Ember. Laughing when someone falls.
Knocking over a tray of food at Sun House and laying into a server for giving the wrong Pinot.
How did she even get these?
My hands come to my stomach, my gut churning when it hits me.
This was him.
“I’m standing here today with the Paradise Posse by my side. Together we’ll make a change. We won’t stand for tearing each other down. We won’t stand with monsters.”
When Ryung doesn’t answer, I tap back to the headlines.
Rowen Daughter Spills All — SBU Magazine
“Will you stand with me, Saint Bons?” Krystal roars into the microphone, the crowd cheering in response. “Will you leave the dictatorship that people like Hannah Alfonso enforce?”
My grip tightens on my phone, my heart racing. This is all too much. Overkill.
A clear, direct shot at me.
Something in me breaks as I storm the podium.
How can she stand there and act better than me when she’s doing the same thing? She's bullying me out of my power, just like her brother.
“Hannah, don’t.” Marisol stops me from climbing the stairs to where Krystal stands. Her outfit’s a contrast to mine, her all black McQueen resembling Krystal’s modern gothic getup. Chloe and Zurie wear similar fits. Leather. Black velvet. Dark silk. It’s a far cry from my pastel pink jumpsuit.
“Marisol, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll get out of my way.” My world spins, my gaze sharpening. “I’m not afraid to tell everyone about our Ibiza trip.” Her jaw hangs in response, but she does what I want and moves.
“What was that, Hannah?” Looking up, Krystal glares at me, her grip tight on the podium. “Still threatening others?” The crowd boos as I climb the podium, my skin so hot I worry I'll burst into flames.
You know this crowd. You own this crowd.
“Like you’re threatening my position?” I say this loud enough so my words catch the mic, my voice echoing around the field. The crowd boos. “You’re only here for power.”
“No, I’m here for the powerless,” she says, the crowd cheering again. “I’m here for every person you bullied, threatened and manipulated to get where you are. Your time is over, Hannah.” Her words echo her brother’s, my body boiling.
“Just like your father’s time is over?” My eyes go cold.
“Where were you that night, Krystal?” She doesn’t get to stand here and act like she’s worthy of what I earned.
“Where were you the night your father died?” A resounding gasp sounds from the crowd, murmurs and whispers following.
I turn to the crowd, gaining leverage. “Those of you who were there know. Krystal’s brother is a Crown. Don’t let them silence you!”
More hushed whispers fill the air, my eyes still scanning the crowd for Rye. Instead of him, I see Dean Patel coming towards the podium.
“Hannah, why don’t you tell everyone what you had to do with my father’s disappearance?”
The fuck?
“I had nothing to do with your father’s disappearance!” I spit, my heart pounding harder. “Are you insane?”
She pulls up her phone and holds it out. “Then why was the last text message he sent to you?”
The world shatters beneath me as Dean Patel finally reaches the podium. A small smirk tugs at Krystal’s face before it’s gone, Dean Patel taking the stage.
What. The. Fuck?
“I’ll have to end this assembly here,” Patel says. “But first, let’s all applaud Krystal Rowen for her bravery.”
The crowd’s applause doesn’t help the pain in my chest, the sharp tingle on my skin. Krystal leads my posse away from the podium, each of them nudging me with their shoulders.
My eyes scan the crowd again.
I need to find Rye.
I need to find Ember.
“Miss Alfonso,” Dean Patel appears in front of me. “The police would like to speak with you in my office.”
I need to find a lawyer.