“Chasm,” I warn, and he sighs, sweeping his hands over his hair.
“Right. Not a good joke. We can’t exactly tell her that Dakota’s being hunted by her fellow Whitehall students. What excuse did you give?”
“I told her that Kota was struggling with Parrish’s disappearance and that seemed to soothe her,” X admits, studying my face. Excuse it might be, but it isn’t entirely untrue. Each day that passes seems a little longer, a little sadder. Parrish drifts a little further away. Emotional distance grows. New memories are made.
It’s just a fraction of the grief that comes with any other loss. The difference here is that we do have a chance to save him.
“Shall we walk you to your car?” Maxx offers and Chasm nods. We escort him into the parking garage, fully aware that we’re being watched by one of the campus security officers. Usually, there are only two on campus at any given time. I don’t see them much since the campus is huge, and they wander around, patrolling the woods, the hedge maze, the gardens, the parking garage, and the halls themselves.
Today, all six of the regular employees are here, and stationed in very specific places.
But, as Chasm mentioned, it only takes one brat complaining to their parents about being watched and Whitehall will buckle under the pressure. This academy exists to appease rich and powerful parents. It’s a mission that’s exceeded even by their need to educate.
Chas gets in his car and then waits on the edge of the gravel drive outside so that Maxx and I have time to get back downstairs and hop in his Jeep. Non-student and non-staff vehicles aren’t allowed past the parking garage’s gate.
“You have no idea how surprised I was when I saw you smashing cars with that walking stick,” Maxx murmurs, doing his best to stifle a smile. He fails and glances over at me as he starts the car. Chasm waits for us to pass by and then pulls out behind us.
“I let my anger get the better of me,” I admit, thinking back on that day. In reality, it was only last week, but, as with Parrish’s kidnapping, it feels like years. “Which is what they wanted, I think. Justin and Volli.”
“I agree,” Maxx says, pressing his mouth into a slight frown. “So … I think there’s something you should know before we get back to the house.”
I turn toward him, heart thundering. He had to know that particular phrase was going to set me off.
“X, I’m freaking out. Spill it quickly, please.” I yank my phone from my pocket, but the only message I have is one from Justin that reads I’ve sent all your things for the party. I hope you enjoy them. Can’t wait to see you, princess.
Princess, princess, princess.
I’m getting so sick of that damn name.
“The Milk Carton app got a hit on Parrish.”
I go completely still, staring at him with widening eyes.
“It what?”
Maxx hooks a turn toward Medina, and then glances over at me. Chasm, the ass-fuck that he is, speeds up, passes us, and then honks his horn as he blasts by in the left lane, yanking his wheel over so that he’s in front of us. X sighs and rolls his eyes, so I’m guessing the news isn’t bad.
“What does that even mean?” I ask, trying to maintain my calm. “Why would Justin even let that happen?”
“I don’t know. All I know is that it found a few images of him on traffic cams throughout Medina, passed out with his head lolled against the inside passenger window of a car. And all from the night he went missing. The feds are all over right now; this is big news.”
I frown at that. Whatever images Milk Carton is capturing were purposefully engineered by my bio dad. But why? What’s the point in that?
“How’s Tess?” I ask, wondering if this is going to put her in a good mood or a really, really bad one. I already know how she feels about the party. She and Paul were arguing about it when Maxx, Kimber, and I slipped into the garage to head to school this morning. Speaking of Kimber, I can’t decide what she’s up to right now, if she still wants to beat my ass, or if she’s softening toward me.
I’m under no delusions that a single night of looking through photo albums will magically cure all our problems, but it’s a step in the right direction.
“She seems excited honestly,” Maxx admits with a loose shrug. “She’s alternating between freaking out about the party and begrudgingly praising Justin’s app.” He glances over at me, and I can’t help but compare the gorgeous green of his eyes to the rustling leaves of summer-bloomed trees outside the Jeep’s windows. “You get that this is a huge deal, right? Justin Prior was arrested on embezzlement charges, had his company and assets seized, and was declared legally unfit to stand trial. He’s supposed to be in a mental facility, broke and withering away. That’s what everybody in Medina thinks.”
