I refuse to open my eyes, refuse to accept this news as true, to acknowledge that I put myself in this position.
“Claire, we found a partial fingerprint on the handle. From what we can tell, based on the fingerprints you submitted prior to the Adventure Abroad program, it belonged to you.”
My world stops.
“And on the blade, we found blood. Blood that belonged to Phoebe Barton.”
Immediately, I’m back there. On that night. The insides of my eyelids replaying the scenes like a film unfolding. The knife in my hand, the rage in my stomach. Holding out the blade towards Phoebe. Wanting nothing more than to make her pay for what she did, how she hurt me.
“As you should understand, that alone is probable cause for arrest. We’re sending an officer down to Jagged Rock. I’m telling you this both as a courtesy and a caution. I have been notified that you are currently staying at the Royal Hotel. You are under strict orders not to leave your accommodations until the officer arrives tomorrow morning. At that point, he will arrest you and transport you back to Sydney, where you will be formally charged with Ms. Barton’s murder.”
My legs give out immediately, my knees grinding against theharsh dirt scattered across the pavement, the denim of my jeans staining a dark red.
The same color as Phoebe’s blood on the night I made the worst mistake of my life.
34
Phoebe
Then
It’s Christmas.
Our last night in Jagged Rock. Tomorrow, we’ll drive to the closest airport and fly back to Sydney, where we’ll spend two more nights before returning home.
It’s time to implement the plan I came up with the other night after talking with Declan.
My reflection watches me from the dirty bathroom mirror, as unfamiliar as a stranger. Dark circles hang below my eyes, my cheeks concave. I’ve lost so much weight since I arrived here, since things began to crumble. My eyes, while always big, now look massive, staring back at me blankly.
I thought if I could convince the others I was the person I wanted to be—confident, brash Phoebe—I would somehow turn into her. But all I did was cause more problems, hurt more people. And now I’m back at square one.
The quiet, beaten-down outcast.
This is what you deserve, my brother’s voice whispers in my ear.
I shake my head violently. I need to start over, for real, to make it stick this time. For the sake of the baby growing inside of me. And the only way to do that is to get away. From the others, from Jagged Rock.
“Oh,” Claire says as she opens the bathroom door. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were in here. You were so…quiet.”
She’s tried a few times to get my advice on Declan, why he’s withdrawn from her. She even slept in our room last night for the first time in weeks.
All I can tell her is that he’s grieving Tomas. He’ll come around. It doesn’t satisfy her, but I’m not really her friend after all, am I? I’m only something of convenience, a person she turns to when she doesn’t have anyone else.
And I don’t want to be that person anymore.
“Are you going to the dinner tonight?” she asks.
I wish I could say no—that I could leave the others, and especially the person who put me in this situation, without so much as a goodbye—but it’s part of the plan.
***
So here I am, sitting at a long table filled with people who won’t catch my eye.
We’re in the room off the Inn’s lobby. The one equipped with a subpar kitchen and a wide expanse of space.
I snag a seat across from Declan, who shoots me a small smile. The others pretend not to notice when I sit down. A quiet buzz of conversation traverses the table, gliding directly past me. It’s like I’m back in high school. The one no one dares to acknowledge, let alone talk to.
A few bottles of wine sit together in the middle of the table. Two are empty, having already made the rounds. And there’s a static in the air, a looseness, as everyone leans into the intoxication.
