Chapter Seventy-Two
Sky
T he campus is alive and thriving as all the seniors pack up their things for the final time. Each room I walk past has an open door, boxes stacked inside. No one is worried about protecting their boundaries anymore. Girls that I’ve never seen talk to each other before are clustered together in the halls, giggling about summer excursions and their upcoming university life.
Even Martha seems to have loosened her reins—at least for the seniors, letting them stay in the common room past curfew and giving prideful gazes at the little chicks she’s mother-henned. We can do no wrong now.
And I use the new freedom to make my way to the roof and get away from it all. The smiles, the laughs, the excitement , it all feels like a nightmare, one in which I’m screaming but no one can hear me, going about their cheer blissfully unaware.
But the problem is… I’m not screaming. I haven’t said a word. I walked out of the administration building with the journal and the note and a fake smile. I took the little brown book and ripped out the pages, flushing them one at a time.
Because there’s something wrong with me.
I barely get the door shut behind me and my shoes onto the graveled roof before the tears overflow. I know the right thing to do is to turn him in. There are four-hundred lives at risk. But I just can’t. There’s a sickness in my veins, a disease made of black devotion and blind loyalty. Because I love him. I love a demon, a monster, a… broken boy . He did something awful, but he didn’t mean to. I know it. And I know he doesn’t want to hurt me. Or anyone else at graduation. He’s just lost—lost to the pain and the darkness.
I rub my arms, trying to press in the warmth of the sun, and walk to the edge of the roof. It’s finally warm, but I can barely feel it. I’ve been so cold, my joints stiff as if I’m already dead, my body preparing for what’s to come.
Am I willing to die for him?
I look over the edge, at the back of campus and the manicured lawn. People are milling around, setting up pristine white chairs. A stage has been erected. My chest constricts because I’m out of time. And in two days, we’re all out of time.
Unless I can stop him.
But I have to find him first.