Page 33 of Wicked Games

I move toward the door.

“He charmed the pants off of me and Savannah,” she says quietly.

I stop in my tracks.

“You knew that, right? Him sleeping with her, then dating me? Well, if you can even call itdating?—”

I spin around. “I don’t want to hear about how you fucked Caleb! God, Amelie. Really?”

She has tears in her eyes, but I’m so over it.

“Why do you think he did it?” She waves her hand. “He knew I was in a vulnerable position, but he just couldn’t resist one day holding it over your head. Because he knew you’d come back. And you’re letting him steamroll you, Margo. Don’t be an idiot like me.”

“What vulnerable position?”

She stares at me, blinking away the tears. Somehow, they don’t fall, they just… I don’t know, get reabsorbed back into her eyes? It’s magic that doesn’t mess up her makeup.

“My family is in some thorough negotiations, is all.”

Negotiations? Could she be any more vague?

“I’m going to lunch,” I tell her.

Obviously, we all grew up differently. I bounced around homes. She bounced around countries. She was studying abroad inPariswhen I got back to Rose Hill. Her family has a second house in the south of France.

What negotiations could her family be going through that affect her so drastically?

The answer doesn’t reveal itself, and I shake my head on my way to the door.

“Ask yourself this, Margo,” she calls. “How did Caleb find you in the woods?”

I know how he found me. Unknown sent me the proof—a picture of Ian dragging me across the field.

This is the only time I help you.They said that.

Unknown messaged Caleb. I think I knew that, in the back of my head. They sent me the photo, but then they sent it to him, too.

“Savannah told him where to find you,” Amelie says.

Wait.

What?

“She texted me about you two, but I told her I didn’t give a shit. So she messaged…” Her voice distorts.

Or maybe that’s the ringing in my ears.

I nod, holding my expression blank, until she leaves. She doesn’t head into the building—she goes toward the parking lot. All I can focus on is my heartbeat thundering.

Savannah is Unknown?

My chest tightens, and my breathing turns ragged.

This is probably a panic attack. I recognize that, but it doesn’t help me when I’m hyperventilating. I press my palm to my chest, my gaze locked on the ground.

“Margo?”

Gravel bites into my knees.

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