Chapter 21
ARCHIE
Two days passed before I finally broke.
Not outwardly.
Nobody at Wexley would’ve looked at me and thought that guy is actively unraveling in slow motion. There was no dramatic, life-altering breakdown where I collapsed onto the floor and started screaming into the void while violins played in the background.
Which would have been fair considering the circumstances.
No, I just slowly lost my fucking mind in quieter ways.
I brought clothes to Henry’s house because neither of us had pretended I’d be sleeping anywhere else. My backpack sat beside his dresser now. My toothbrush was next to his. Half my products had somehow migrated into his bathroom like they were filing legal paperwork to establish residency.
And every morning, I still went to class. I sat through lectures and answered questions—took notes I couldn’t remember writing afterward.
Meanwhile, Otto Keller continued existing in the world like he hadn’t split my life open straight down the middle.
That was the part my brain couldn’t settle around. Not the fake identity. Not even Ashford. It was the normalcy of it.
The idea that somebody could carry a secret that monstrous and still smile at neighbors, still hold doors open for strangers, still walk through life untouched by what they’d done.
It made the world feel fake.
Like somebody had peeled the wallpaper back on reality and exposed mold underneath.
Rhys knew something was wrong.
I could tell.
He kept watching me during our lunch dates with this crease between his eyebrows, waiting for me to crack open and spill whatever was clawing around inside me. Twice, he’d reached across the table and squeezed my wrist like he was checking whether I was still physically present.
I almost told him, but every time I pictured Otto realizing we knew, cold slid down my spine hard enough to shut my mouth again.
So I kept pretending… but I wasn’t very fucking good at it.
By Thursday afternoon, campus felt too loud for my skin.
Students crowded the quad in clumps, backpacks knocking into shoulders, voices overlapping into one constant stream of noise that scraped against the inside of my skull.
The fountain near the library churned steadily beneath the drizzle, bikes clicking over wet pavement as people rushed between buildings before the next rain hit.
Everything around me kept insisting the world was normal.
I cut across the edge of the humanities courtyard with my hood pulled up and my headphones in, even though nothing was playing through them. Mostly, I just wanted an excuse not to talk to anyone.
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
Daddy: There is lunch in my office for you. Come eat it.
Me: i’m not hungry
Daddy: too damn bad, baby. don’t make me come and get you. i will toss you over my shoulder and walk you across campus like that.
Me: well now you’re just flirting with me
Daddy: come on up to Daddy’s office, sweetheart. I’ll flirt with you real good. If you’re a good boy and eat your lunch, I’ll bend you over my desk.
My knees went weak so suddenly I nearly missed a step on the uneven pavement.
Jesus Christ.
Even with my life actively collapsing into some sort of psychological thriller nightmare, Henry still somehow knew exactly how to get under my skin in under thirty seconds.
Me: is that a promise?
My mouth twitched before I could stop it, the expression feeling strange after the last few days of barely holding myself together.
People passed around me in blurred streaks of umbrellas and backpacks while rain misted cold against my cheeks, but for one tiny second, the pressure inside my head loosened.
Because Henry hadn’t changed.
He still wanted me with this terrifying, overwhelming certainty that made the rest of the world feel thinner around the edges.
Loved me, too.
Enough that a man who survived monsters still touched me like I was the gentlest thing he’d ever found.
God.
I missed him already, which was ridiculous considering I’d seen him three hours ago.
I was smiling at my phone when someone stepped into my path.
“Easy there, kid.”
Every organ in my body seemed to stop functioning at once.
Otto smiled at me beneath the gray afternoon light, one hand curled around a coffee cup, rain catching lightly in the shoulders of his jacket like he’d just come from across campus.
My stomach hit the ground so fast it made me dizzy.
“Wh… what are you doing here?”
“Easy,” he repeated gently. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
You didn’t scare me, bitch.
You hollowed me out.
Rain gathered along the edge of his coat collar while he shifted the coffee cup to his other hand.
“The dean reached out to the precinct about security for that fundraising gala Wexley throws every spring. My old captain recommended me to help coordinate things.” A shrug lifted one shoulder. “Figured I’d volunteer. It gives me something to do besides yell at squirrels and bother your mother.”
My pulse slammed hard enough that I felt it in my teeth.
“You… you know Dean Randolph?”
“Just met him a few minutes ago. He runs a tight ship.”
Lies.
Otto Keller had not just accidentally wandered onto the same campus where Henry worked while anonymous notes about Ashford started appearing in his office.
My skin prickled beneath my hoodie.
Maybe it was Otto sending them.
Maybe Randolph knew exactly who he was.
Maybe they’d both been sitting on opposite ends of this thing for years, watching Henry dig through the ashes while pretending not to notice.
I stared at Otto’s face and suddenly understood why Henry said men like this survived so long.
Nothing about him looked dangerous.
That was the horror of it.
A student brushed past us laughing with her friend, umbrella tipping sideways in the wind, and for one completely unhinged second, I pictured grabbing Otto by the throat right there in the middle of campus.
I could see it so clearly it almost startled me.
My hands locking into his jacket.
His back slamming against the wet brick wall beside the courtyard.
Tell me where he is, you sick son of a bitch.
The image burned through me fast and violent enough that my fingers twitched.
Otto either didn’t notice or pretended not to.
“You eat yet?” he asked casually. “I was about to head toward the café. You could join me if you want.”
Every alarm in my body started screaming.
This was… objectively insane.
Henry would lose his fucking mind.
But Otto was standing right in front of me for the first time since everything cracked open, and I suddenly realized I couldn’t wait anymore. I couldn’t keep pacing holes into Henry’s floor while Abel’s ghost sat between us every night.
I needed to look this man in the face and hear him speak. Plus, the cafe was public.
It was safe.
Probably.
“Sure,” I heard myself say.
Otto smiled. “Great,” he said easily, turning toward the main walkway. “You can tell me how classes are going. Your mother says you’ve been overworking yourself.”
I forced myself to move beside him, already pulling my phone back out.
“I should let my professor know. He’s expecting me.”
Otto chuckled softly. “Strict? I don’t want to get you in trouble.”
“I won’t get in trouble.”
Yes, the fuck I will.
My fingers flew over the screen.
Me: Otto is on campus. Going to the café with him.
I hit send before I could rethink it and shoved my phone back into my pocket. The vibration started almost immediately against my thigh.
It was Henry—it had to be.
Otto walked beside me through the drizzle while students cut around us in hurried clusters, umbrellas knocking together as they crossed the quad. He moved easily through campus, relaxed enough that anyone looking at us would assume this was normal.
The café came into view at the end of the humanities courtyard, warm light spilling beneath the striped awning while rainwater dripped steadily from the fabric edges.
Usually, this place was impossible to breathe in after three o’clock.
Students packed shoulder-to-shoulder around tiny tables that were never meant to hold six people.
Somebody was usually laughing too loud near the windows while grad students guarded outlets like territorial animals.
Henry once told me the café’s music playlist sounded "aggressively earnest,” and now I couldn’t walk in without thinking about it.
My pace slowed beneath the awning, sneakers dragging against wet concrete while a cold pressure spread slowly beneath my ribs.
Instinct.
Every nerve in me pulled tight one by one like my body was bracing for impact before it saw the danger coming.
The buzzing in my pocket started again.
Henry.
I could feel him through denim and muscle and bone at this point. The man might as well have been physically grabbing me by the shoulders from across campus.
Otto glanced toward me when I stopped just outside the door.
“You alright there, kid?”
My hand flexed at my side before I shoved it into the pocket of my jacket so he wouldn’t see it shaking. “I’m fine.”
Otto pulled the café door open, and warm air rolled over me, thick with espresso, cinnamon syrup, and melted chocolate.
Usually, that smell made me think of late nights with Rhys or Henry stealing pieces of my muffin while pretending he didn’t want any.
Now it just made me nauseous.
The bell above the door jingled softly as I stepped inside. My eyes moved automatically toward the counter and snagged on the back corner booth.
Oh, these sneaky fucking bastards.
Dean Randolph looked up from a ceramic coffee mug, calm as fucking ever.
He stood as we approached, smoothing one hand down the front of his coat like we were about to have a perfectly civilized conversation instead of whatever the fuck this was.
“Mr. Quinn,” he greeted warmly.
I stopped walking.
Otto kept moving another step before realizing I wasn’t beside him anymore.
“What is this?”
The question came out sharper than I intended.
Good.
I was done trying to smooth the edges off my reactions for people who clearly thought they were smarter than me.