Chapter 30
THIRTY
HANNAH
Five days.
Five days in isolation with Krystal Rowen.
No classes, no lectures, but a pile of work to make up for it.
As for the space? I didn’t think it would get worse than the dorms. Everything is wooden but painted white, blinding when the sun comes in through the dusty windows.
There isn’t much to look at besides a minimalist image of a flower being watered by the weathered wooden door.
It’s like we’re meant to sit here with just our work and our minds.
As for privacy? There is none. I can feel Krystal staring at me from across the room on her rickety single bed.
“What is this place anyway?” I ask, my words slipping out with my eyes on a spider in the corner of the stained ceiling. It’s the first words I’ve said to her since we got here hours ago.
“Hell masquerading as heaven,” she replies, those small dark eyes still on my skull.
“And, what are the chances of you killing me tonight?” I ask, weighing what I can sharpen and keep under my mattress.“May I remind you, if you do murder me like you did your father, you will get expelled.”
“That would be too easy. I want to string you up and torture you instead."
Jesus. “You’re as dramatic as your brother.” My back hits the mattress, flimsy enough to feel the wood underneath. “Why the hell are you even upset with me? You’re the one who killed your father. You belong here. I don’t. I only tried to help you guys.”
“Oh, did you?” Her sarcasm makes me roll my eyes. “By telling my mom? You know how long it took me to get out of the last institute? And this one is more batshit than the last. Be real, Hannah, you did everything you did for yourself.”
Now she really sounds like him. “I belong in The Hill. Not here. But you sure as hell belong in a worse place than this for what you did.”
“For fighting you?”
“For killing your father!” My voice gets louder as I turn my head to her. “You murdered someone, Krystal.”
The room goes silent, the wind whistling through the wood. The paper-thin blanket on the bed is hardly enough to protect from the chill in the air.
“It was either him or me.” Krystal finally speaks. “He tried to kill me. So yeah, I killed him first. I’d do it again.”
My chest pangs, finally hearing her admission. “So you did it.” My mind flashes back to the poker pushed through my father’s leg. “You admit it. Finally.”
“I-I didn’t mean to.” Her voice softens, her knees coming to her chest. “I gave him that choice, his reputation or my brother’s, just like we planned.” A shot hits my gut, reminding me I wasn’t there. “Then there was fury in his eyes. Worse than when he hit me.”
My mind flashes back to the rage I see in my father's eyes all too often. “Like he’d stop at nothing to remain in charge? Even if that meant your life?”
She nods, her eyes dropping from mine. “He charged at me, so I grabbed the nearest thing and swung. And I kept swinging. And swinging.” Her voice shakes. “I felt powerful. More powerful than him, and I couldn’t let that go. I knew if anyone in The Hill found out what I did, it would be—”
“Social suicide.” Sitting up, I piece everything together as my gaze stays on Krystal.
Tears fill her eyes before she wipes them away as quickly as they came.
“I wish I could kill my father," I admit, a hurricane in my stomach. "I actually just wish he would die.” Krystal’s brows furrow, then her brother’s voice hits my head.
“You can’t fight your villains alone, Alfonso.”
Sucking in a deep breath, I exhale before I speak again, “My father is… abusive. I got sent here because he attacked my mother, and I tried to stop him.” My throat tightens, but I push the rest of my words out. “If I had more guts, I would’ve killed him too.”
Silence takes over the room again, but something shifts as the tightness in my chest releases. I never thought I’d admit that. My old therapist told my father everything, and I learned early to keep my true feelings inside.
Krystal lets out a laugh, breaking the silence. “No shit, Alfonso.” The way she says my name like her brother makes my stomach twist. “Is that why you walk around with a stick up your ass?”
It’s hard not to smile at the similarities the Rowen siblings have. For a second, it feels like I’m speaking to Rye. A more approachable version of him, anyway. I ignore the question.
“Did Rye know?” I ask, his face taking over my mind again. That crooked smile. That confident grin. The anger that flowed out of him. “About what you did?”
“Before you told our mom? Yes. While my family was trying to prepare a statement on his death, Ryung was trying to protect me. He didn’t want me to go away again.”
“So why the hell did you come after me?”
“Rye’s been trying to take you down since I got back here.” She shrugs, her head hitting the dirty wall that her bed rests against. “I worried you’d retaliate, and I was sick of not having any power. I was sick of not having any of my own control.”
“I get it.”
“Rye said I needed to be the new queen bee or The Hill would eat me alive, considering how I left.
" Right. Krystal was a notorious party girl.
One even I couldn't keep up with. "I thought you’d come back swinging at some point, and I knew Ryung would take the fall for what I did, so I took my chance to be on top.”
A surprising smile settles on my face, finally hearing an explanation for everything. “You know, I would’ve done the same.”
“Yeah, you would’ve. Then I felt extra threatened when I saw how close you and Rye got."
Her words hit my chest like a mallet.“I don’t know if I’d consider us close.”
Krystal arches a brow like I’ve said gibberish. “You’re kidding.”
“No, he hates me.”
“For someone so quick on her toes, it baffles me that you don’t know he doesn't hate you." Krystal laughs again, wiping away more tears. “He’s obsessed with you. Can’t you tell? He’s never been this flustered by anyone. Not even our father. You’re the only person to ever match his energy.”
My face scrunches. “And look where it got me. I was so mad at everything, I stabbed my father in his leg with a fireplace poker."
“That’s it?” Krystal asks, her brows rising. “Lucky fucker.”
That makes me laugh, our giggles filling the room like we’re best friends at a sleepover.
“I’m sorry I shared the video with your mom,” I say, my body relaxing into the firm mattress. “I got expelled and saw red.”
“I’m sorry I attacked you in the hall," she says, a small smile lingering on her face. Mine too. “Hey, Hannah? Why did you leak the story about my brother and the coach’s wife?”
“He didn’t tell you?” Of course, he didn’t. “He shared my nude photo around the school last semester.”
“And you don’t think that was a big retaliation? He lost everything.”
“You’re defending him? You think I deserved to have a picture of my body shared around the school?
I did not consent to that.” I hope she doesn’t see my cheeks redden when I’m reminded of all the things I did consent to.
“He humiliated me. He made me powerless. So I wanted to show him I could do the same.” And we’ve been fighting for power ever since.
“I didn’t think it would get as big as it did.
By the tenth headline, I shoved any guilt I felt aside and told myself that he started it.
” My voice trails when I realize I sound like a child.
“Okay, you have a point." Krystal stalls, like she’s running calculations in her head. “Wait, why were you guys sharing nudes?”
My stomach flips. The smirk on her face tells me she knows, but she's making me spell it out. “We sent a few pictures back and forth last semester. He sent me a dick pic. Marisol saw it and showed it to some of the girls on campus. Rye got wind of it. So he shared my nude. And if I’m honest, it was a good one. Just didn’t think the entire campus would see it. ”
Krystal takes a minute before her mouth twists. “Ew, okay, you shouldn’t have shown Marisol, but she also shouldn’t have shared it.”
“No, she shouldn’t have.”
My words soften, my mind spinning. If Marisol had never shared that photo, could something have started between Rye and me sooner? Something healthier?
My heart sinks. It doesn’t matter. Now it’s all tainted in war and blood.
“Some friend,” Krystal scoffs.
Her words echo her brother’s voice in my head.
“Oh, Kitten, they’re not your friends. You know that.”
“If it makes you feel better,” Krystal groans. “Marisol tried to steal the dates I scored with Alex Carter.”
“At least she’s consistent,” I laugh. “And good for you. Alex Carter’s a catch. He’s unstoppable in Hollywood right now.”
Krystal sighs, the sun setting on our cabin. “As long as we’re here, that doesn’t matter.”
She’s right. “All that work this semester and not a thing to show for it.”
“Wait, Hannah,” Krystal jumps to the edge of the bed, the bed creaking with her movements. “You’re right. We didn’t do all this work to end up at SOL. We’ve shown how ruthless we can be. Why doesn’t that apply here?”
Sitting up, I move to the edge of my bed, the cabin darkening as the sun sets. Krystal stares at me in that way a Rowen stares when they’re plotting. Planning.
“You want to work together to get out of here?” I ask.
She nods. “But first, we need a plan."
“Well, we have time. A lot of it.” Looking out at the setting sun, I agree. I don’t belong here. She doesn’t either. It’s time we write our own stories, one our parents don’t dictate. “So, let’s get to work.”