Page 29 of Hide And Seek

“I get why Piper feels bad, but it’s not her fault,” Sutton went on. “I mean, it’s not like either of them could’ve known a kid was going to sneak out to go swimming at two in the morning.”

“How do you know it was two in the morning?” I asked. “I heard she sneaked out alone, and no one saw her.”

Sutton blinked. “Oh, I mean… that’s just an educated guess,” she said. “Noura told us she got up earlier in the night, around half past one, because she needed the bathroom. She said she saw all five girls lying in their beds when she left, and they were all there when she got back, too. And she takes a while to get back to sleep, so it stands to reason that Carly must’ve sneaked out around two. Maybe even later. Obviously no one can be sure of the exact time, because there’s no surveillance cameras here.”

Her long-winded explanation made sense, but at the same time, it was impossible to miss the slightly flustered expression on her face, or the way her voice had faltered a little as she spoke.

“The ‘no cameras’ thing surprises me, actually,” I said. “Given the clientele. You'd expect these parents to want every square inch monitored, right?”

Sutton shook her head. “Camp Blackpine's whole appeal is that it's old-school. Apart from the food choices, that is,” she said, raising a brow. “The people who send their children here want them to have the same experience of freedom they had when they were young. No screens, no surveillance, no constant monitoring. That’s why we’re not supposed to use our phones in front of the kids. And also why there’s no security cameras anywhere.”

“Oh, right.”

“A lot of people like it that way. Including me.” Sutton gave me a small smile. “It’s a nice break from the real world. And it also means we can have our sneaky bonfires in the woods. Have some drinks. Get into trouble.”

“Oh, yeah? What sort of trouble?” I asked, keeping my voice light and airy with a touch of playfulness.

Sutton’s smile faded. “It’s just a figure of speech.”

“Right.”

“Anyway.” Sutton straightened, visibly resetting. “That's all I needed to tell you. Major schedule changes incoming. I’ll give you the new one later this afternoon.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“For now…” She trailed off, squinting at a nearby computer screen. “You’re needed at paintball instead of the creative writing class. Maren won’t have any problem running that alone.”

“Got it.”

With our conversation over, I stepped out of the building and stood in the crisp late morning air for a moment, contemplating what I’d overheard earlier.

I was almost certain it was about Carly’s death, given how Delia was freaking out about the prank note that referenced ‘what happened last year’. She’d sounded rattled in a way that even Sutton, with all her polished composure, hadn't quitemanaged to talk her out of, and that kind of anxiety didn't come from some minor mishap. It was the anxiety of someone who was sitting on something bad. Something they were genuinely afraid might surface.

Something like a person knowing more about a tragic death than they’d ever admitted, perhaps...

It was also clear that Delia knew exactly what Sutton knew, but she was considerably less adept at acting like she didn't. That meant out of the two of them, Delia was the most likely to crack.

The trick was getting close to her without making it obvious that I had an ulterior motive. So what I needed was proximity. Shared activity time; the kind of low-stakes environment where things slipped out naturally.

I wouldn’t know my new schedule until this afternoon, though, so right now, all I could do was remain hopeful.

I turned toward the path that led to the paintball range, mentally preparing for whatever the game had in store. I made it about forty feet before I registered a figure approaching the same path from another direction.

Tall. Dark hair. Handsome.

Rhys noticed me at the same moment I noticed him, and he lifted a hand to wave.

“Heading to paintball?” he said by way of greeting, falling into step beside me.

“Yup,” I replied, eyes drifting over to his khaki cargo pants and scuffed black lace-up boots. “I’m guessing you are too, based on those combat boots you’ve got on.”

“Yup. Ever done it before?”

“Once, yeah,” I replied. “With some friends from college. I was shockingly bad.”

“Good to know,” he said, and I could hear the smirk in it without looking.

We walked in silence for a few steps, and then he spoke up again.