Page 110 of Wicked Games

I flick the light on, inhaling sharply. “If you can hear me, I’m going to find you.”

And then I get to work. I use that wand thing on everything, and when that doesn’t soothe my fears, I tear my room apart.

And yet, I find nothing. Absolutely. Nothing. I guess I should be grateful that the only thing spying on me was a mermaid figure. But how long will it take for Unknown to get back in here and plant something else?

I sink to the floor, leaning against my bed.

My phone rings. A blocked number.

“Hello?”

There’s a click, then, “You found my gift.”

It sounds off. Not quite human. Kind of like the GPS navigation voice.

“I wouldn’t really call it a gift, since you were using it to spy on me,” I answer.

When they remain silent, I say, “You’ve never called before. What prompted the change?”

“Texting is so… impersonal,” Unknown says. “Wouldn’t you agree, Margo Wolfe?”

“I can’t say I particularly agree with any of this.”

“You’ve always had bad luck picking friends. How do you know this time is any different?”

There’s a click, and the line goes dead.

I bring my phone away from my ear, and it vibrates a second later with a text.

Caleb

Are you home?

My stomach flips. It’s just coincidental timing—that’s all. I don’t answer him and crawl into bed instead. It’s still early, but I don’t care. There is a pile of things in the center of my room that I will reorganize tomorrow. And Ican’tdeal with Caleb’s judgement right now.

I should’ve known that pretending to sleep wouldn’t keep Caleb away. I don’t know how long I doze, but soon enough, he pulls back the covers and slides in behind me.

“Are you avoiding me?” he whispers.

“I’m avoiding life,” I mumble. I roll into him and bury my face in the crook of his neck.

He always smells so good. It’s unfair. He could be sweaty from a run and he’d still smell like sandalwood and pine.

“And apparently the mess in the middle of your room.”

“I was searching for other…”

He hugs me tighter. “Did you find anything?”

“No. But I’m questioning everything. I was just thinking about the time you said Amelie was a bad friend.”

He stiffens.

Then I stiffen.

Because it coincides so much with what Unknown just said…

“Do you remember that?” I peek up at him. “One night eating pizza with my dad?—”

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