Page 91 of A Dead Man's B-Side
But it isn’t possible.
Cassius Vale.
Mr Browne.
It all made sense now.
Was this all planned out?
Was Cassius Vale sponsoring me?
Has he been preparing me for this since–? Since when? How long has he been planning this?
A rush of anger ran through my blood, hot and fast. Dipping into every nerve and organ, lighting them ablaze.
A plan was already forming in my head; stomping towards the teacher’s quarter and sucker punching the old man before he could let out even a word of explanation.
I was going to kill him and burn him like I did–
A soft hand placed itself above my tight fist under the low table and my jolt would have been noticeable had Paris not spoken, “Who else is in the photo?”
Ajax leaned forward. “He looks familiar. Maybe I’ve met him at a gala?” He trailed off but I didn’t let him finish his thoughts.
Rain met my eyes, and she must have caught on faster than the others, because she looked conflicted in revealing what we both concluded. I shook my head, subtly, and she narrowed her eyes. In the end, she chose to let it go, but I was sure she would remind me that her silence wasn’t free.
Paris’ hand remained above my fist, now relaxed, until Thaddeus arrived.
Though the inner turmoil was still there, until my flesh felt like an unreachable itch, one that wouldn’t go away no matter how deep I scratched. The questions ran through my mind until I couldn’t understand up from down.
“Well, that should be… Matthew Queen. The blonde hair is blinding.” Rain noted.
His smile was just as blinding as his hair. He had a golden boy image about him. Bright blue eyes and a soft posture. He looked innocent, as if untouched by anything bad that had ever occurred atCastle Hill. As if the three devilish-looking boys standing next to him were as good-natured as him.
Callum Queen looked a lot like his father, save for the personality.
I know bad men, and unlike Callum, his father didn’t look it. Is that why he didn’t appoint his own son?
“The girl at the front is Adama Osei. I’ve never met her, though.”
“I did,” Paris said absentmindedly, almost as if replaying the memory as her eyes remained locked on the beautiful girl in front of the group. Her tan skin was glowing, and she had a big smile on her face. Her hair sat in long, perfect curls, and her bespectacled eyes held a sort of maturity that the boys didn’t have. As if she had knowledge of wisdom yet to be shared. “She’s close with my mum. I’ve… seen her around.”
That didn’t sound like the entire story, but it was hers to tell.
Rain pointed to the other girl standing next to her, though at a distance. She had ginger hair, almost matching August’s, but hers was pin straight, and her eyes were green. Her lips were pursed into a smile, clearly unhappy about something. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and the boy beside her looked as if he’d rather die than get near her. “Madelaine Fenlon.”
Ajax leaned forward, his features tightening, lips pursing, but he remained silent.
August muttered, “At least now we know why they got a building named after them.”
Ajax spoke, but the malice in his tone wasn’t targeted at August, but rather towards the situation, “If that were true, every other family would have a building named after them. The Fenlons just don’t know what subtleness is.”
Marigold squirmed in her seat, looking too uncomfortable by his words. Why, I didn’t know.
I couldn’t understand her, and it’s been bothering me more every day.
She was too silent, too all-knowing.
“Where’s the Jett candidate?” Paris asked.
