“She’s gone,” he said.
20 ~ Dead Wrong
I’m not sure how I made it through Kate’s funeral without losing my mind—how any of us did, really. The last week of break had been nothing short of a nightmare. Only, there’d been no waking from this one, no sigh of relief when the alarm sounded and you found yourself tucked safely in bed.
My sorrow was unrelenting. I’d screwed up; I’d somehow sent Kate out to suffer what should have been Jack’s fate. How had I missed the clues? True, I hadn’t expected to find my friends in Atlanta during break. I had expected this vision to take place closer to home. The semiformal attire had made me think prom, maybe. The filled-out, fully leaved trees suggested later in the season, at least in New York. I’d thought there was still time to figure it out.
I’d been wrong. Dead wrong. And Kate had paid the price.
Thanks to Aidan’s mind tricks, the Atlanta police, along with Kate’s family, were convinced that some random, depraved murderer had killed her in a particularly gruesome manner. A botched robbery, they theorized. After all, rich kids wandering out in the woods around a posh country club would be easy targets. That explanation was good enough for them.
But those of us who knew the truth, well . . . we’d have to live with it for the rest of our lives.
School had offered us an extra week’s time off, but we’d all been anxious to return, to be together again. The first day back, they’d called us all to the school’s counselor’s office, even Matthew. I know they were trying their best, but talking about it didn’t help. Not for me and certainly not for Jack.
Jack, who had headed back inside the club after receiving a frantic text from Kate that night. Only he hadn’t bothered to text her back to tell her he was coming, and so she’d gone out looking for him.
And I would never, ever forgive myself for that.
My cell, set to vibrate, buzzed beside me. Patsy. With a sigh, I connected the call.
“Hey, Mom.” I lay back on my bed, staring up at the ceiling.
“Hey,” Patsy said. “So, how are you doing?”
“Fine,” I lied. “I mean, I’m hanging in there.”
I heard her sigh. “I really wish you’d taken the school up on their offer and stayed home a few more days. It’s just too soon after something like that.”
“Well, I talked to the school counselor yesterday.” I figured that would satisfy her.
“Oh, that’s good. Okay.” I could hear the relief in her voice. “I . . . um . . . I kind of need to talk to you about something important, but I know it’s not really a good time.”
Uh-oh. What now? “It’s fine,” I said. “What’s going on?”
“Well, this is kind of big. It’s quite a shock, even for me.”
“Okay. Go on,” I prodded.
“Paul’s asked me to marry him,” she blurted out. “And I said yes.”
“Wow. That’s . . . great,” I said lamely. “Congratulations.”
“There’s more,” she warned, and I braced for it. “We’re moving to Australia. In June, right after your graduation.”
“You’re what?”
“I know it seems sudden, but we’ve been talking about it for a while now. And . . . well, I figured you’d probably want to go straight to Paris and get settled once you graduate anyway, so—”
“Wait, what do you mean, Paris?” I sat up, glancing over at the calendar on the wall, realizing with a start that April first—decision day—had come and gone. My heart began to race, my palms damp now. “Do you know something I don’t?”
“Didn’t you check the university’s website on the first of the month? I thought you told me—”
“I totally forgot to check. Are you saying the official acceptance came in the mail already?”
“Yes! The American University of Paris. I thought you said it was your top choice.”
“It is my top choice.” At least, it had been. The last couple of weeks had made decisions like this one seem irrelevant.
“So . . . are you excited?”
“Of course! Paris. Wow, I just can’t believe it. I guess I sort of pushed it to the back of my mind. You know, with everything else . . .” I couldn’t bring myself to finish the sentence.
“Of course, honey. I know it’s been a tough time. She was your friend, after all, and it was just so horrible, so random. It could have been any one of you. I just hope they catch that sick bastard.”
But they wouldn’t, of course. This was one murder that would remain unsolved.
“Anyway,” Patsy continued after a heavy sigh, “the lease isn’t up here until the end of September, so you’ve got plenty of time to pack up your stuff. And . . . I know Australia’s far away, but you can come visit us anytime you want. Seriously, Violet.”
I was glad for the change of subject. “I . . . yeah, of course. So . . . when are you getting married?”
“We haven’t decided yet, but it’ll be really low-key. Just City Hall or something.” In other words, I wasn’t invited. “Wait, can you hold on a sec, Violet? Actually, I better take this call. I’ll try you back later, okay?”
“Sure,” I answered.
“Thanks. Love you!” she chirped.
“Love you too,” I said, then ended the call. I set aside my cell, my thoughts spinning.
On the one hand, Patsy moving to Australia would make things so much easier. I’d be able to go to Paris and do whatever Mrs. Girard asked of me without any questions. There’d be no one around to check in with. No one to lie to.
But on the other hand, Patsy was the closest thing to a parent I had left, and Australia was far away—literally on the other side of the globe. I was going to miss her.
And then there was the news about my acceptance letter. I hurried over to my laptop, needing to see for myself. A few clicks later, and there it was—application status: accepted. I wondered if Aidan had remembered to check.
I started to reach out to him telepathically and then stopped myself. We’d barely spoken since that awful night in Atlanta. He probably thought I was still angry with him for refusing to turn Kate, but I wasn’t.
I was ashamed of the way I’d acted, horrified that I’d asked him to do something so terrible. At the time, I’d seen it only as a way to save Kate. To cheat death. I owed him an apology.
Aidan?
Silence. I stared at the clock, waiting for him to respond. A full minute passed. Then another.
Hi, he said at last. You settled in yet?
Yeah. Can we meet somewhere?
I’m in my room. Why don’t you just come here?
I hesitated. Are you sure? Won’t we get in trouble?
Honestly, Vi, I don’t think Mrs. Girard cares what we do anymore.
That was good enough for me. Okay, I’ll be right there.
I’ll leave the door unlocked.
When I stepped inside his room ten minutes later, Aidan was sitting at his desk, his golden head bent over a book. He turned toward me as I shut the door, a wary expression on his face. Behind me, I heard the lock click into place.
“Hey,” he said softly. “How are you doing?”
“Better than Jack,” I answered with a shrug. He was back at school, an empty shell of himself. He kept his distance from the rest of us, just going through the motions. But it was clear that his heart wasn’t in it, and who could blame him?
“I shouldn’t have told him about the vision,” I said. I’d saddled him with unnecessary guilt—with the knowledge that she’d sacrificed herself for him.