Page 36 of Wicked Court

In an online historical mystery forum, one user theorized that she may have been buried with the jewels Sarah received as payment for murder. If found, it would be worth millions. Billions on the black market.

I read, then dismiss. I have enough thoughts and opinions. I need facts.

I’m about to give up for the night when a post further down, almost buried from all the down-votes it received, catches my eye. It reads:

Do people really believe the Anderton line died with Sarah and this alleged deformed daughter? Historians have just decided this girl is dead because they have no fucking clue what happened to her. Like, why isn’t it questioned that the daughter was deleted from trial records because she was being hidden somewhere alive? Think about it guys. Daughter is what, 16? That’s like middle-age in the 1700s. And I don’t think she was deformed. I think that’s only mentioned to turn people off of the idea that a girl like that could ever get pregnant. I bet you the daughter was knocked up and Sarah used her connections with the nobles that hired her to get her kid out of there when they were caught. So she could continue her lineage. Do you agree? Discuss.

My heart quickens. I may not have solid evidence, but if my mother is right, I’m proof the Anderton lineage existed well after Sarah’s death.

And proof there are jewels.

NO. I shake out of that thought. This amulet could’ve come from anywhere. I only have Mom’s word and Gram’s cryptic warnings. The chances of me stumbling on a piece of treasure from two hundred years ago are below zero.

But then … why are the boys involving themselves with me? It’s not just to bully me.

I’m not shy about my looks. I know I’m pretty. But I’m not that pretty.

Behind their cruel veneer lies an intensity that borders on desperation.

I look at the handle of the person who wrote the post to see if they made any other posts.

Nothing. This was their only one, written three years ago.

I fall back in my seat with a sigh. Is this theory possible? It’s not hard to believe Sarah was protecting more than her fabled lost jewels. She was a smart woman who evaded detection for over a decade. A murderer, yes. Cold-blooded, for sure. But never stupid.

What secrets did she take to her grave?

A muffled thud against my door interrupts my thoughts.

Sasha’s slurred voice filters through the wood. “You in there? My keys ran away.”

I take a sip of my now-tepid coffee and push the laptop to the side, smoothing my frazzled hair with one hand.

“Coming, dear,” I call back.

The door squeaks open, and Sasha stumbles in with an armful of bags from Meath House’s infamous snack room, her eyes heavy-lidded and makeup smudged.

Sasha drops the bags on the floor and then pouts at the pile. “My keys went on an adventure without me.”

I eye her stash at my feet, impressed she carried so much. “Doesn’t look like it.”

Swaying, Sasha deadpans, “Truly awe-inspiring comeback, you nerd. I can already see the comedy specials in your future.”

“I’m paid handsomely to hide my talent.”

Sasha stifles a giggle that turns into a hiccup. “What’s got you so squirreled away and serious, anyway?”

“Just some old gossip about the Anderton Witch Trials.” I shrug as if it’s not a big deal. “Might do a paper on it for history class.”

She rolls her eyes, used to my focus on academics as she takes out a bag of chips and tosses them over my head.

“Oops. Missed. If you’re looking for new dirt on the Anderton witches, stop wasting your time. They were all confi—consip—conspiracy theories made up by bitter old men who didn’t get the women they wanted and killed them for it. Besides, I think we have more important things to focus on.”

I return to my seat, frustrated enough with my research to take time off and entertain her. “Like what?”

“The subben—sudden attentions of Kaspian, duh!” she huffs, popping a chip in her mouth as she lays back on her bed, looking at the ceiling like it has answers. “You think I wouldn’t hear about your make-out session by the fountain? Everyone was talking about it at the party. How Kaspian, one of the Untouchable Four, touched you.”

It wasn’t just Kaspian, I think with a blush.

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