Page 87 of Switching Graves

All six of them sit back in their seats, the sounds of their irritation filling the empty space. Ashton curses and Terry rolls her eyes.

“Divina’s girl,” James states, holding his head.

They know as well as I do that Divina will make this a nightmare for everyone if she catches wind of what happened.

“I’m fairly certain her daughter didn’t say anything to her,” I supply.

Mostly because I’m fairly certain the woman posing as her daughter doesn’t speak to her at all, if she’s smart.

“An offense against a Syndicate member is far worse than one against a board member,” Ronald Everwatch remarks, turning toward his peers to gauge their reaction.

They shrug, mumbling their agreements as if this is a new rule they’re making up on the spot.

“We were prepared not to have you leave this room alive, Raze,” James informs me matter-of-factly.

I nod my head in understanding.

“But defending a fellow Syndicate member’s legacy has spared your life. You’ll be expected to pay any reparations for the Ashbluff boy’s injuries. Any other misstep on your end will result in your immediate execution. You’re on thin ice.”

The rest of the council agrees.

The iron fist gripping my heart lessens a bit, hot relief flooding my chest. At least I’ll get more time to carry out my plans for the Ellery girl. However fleeting that may be.

“For the sake of all our sanity, this issue is to remain between the seven of us. No one tells Divina what the Ashbluff boy has done,” Ashton practically begs. This time, we all nod.

I walk out with a new sense of purpose. I’ve got to pull my head out of my ass and get back to the reason I started this in the first place. All of this.

Back to prioritizing the only thing that matters: Revenge for my brother’s senseless murder.

I should thank that sniveling piece of shit, Ezra. He knocked me back on my path when I had fallen off. And now that he’s attempted to put a target on my head, I’ll be sure to include him and his disgusting little roach of a son.

44

Sonny

Poppy found a way to make it back home for Thanksgiving with a little bit of help from me. It took some finagling, but I managed to budget out my next month without my half of her parent’s allowance.

It doesn’t bother me to go without. It’s what I’m used to. What bothers me is the blind trust she places in a group of strangers who are obviously taking advantage of her. Her silence and vague answers make more sense now, and have only worsened since our argument.

We planned to fly into the same airport on Wednesday with flights landing a few hours apart, then have her parents pick us up at the same time. I was waiting at her gate for three hours, praying to every god out there that she actually followed through with our plans.

Thankfully, she did. But she made sure I was aware of how she felt about it.

Aunt Divina and Uncle Graysen were happy just to have us home. They ordered in a small, intimate dinner for the holiday and peppered us with questions about our time away.

Most of their interest was focused toward Poppy and her time at Ravenshurst. We were supposed to fill each other in when we landed—at least, a few notable details—but Poppy spent the entire time between getting off her plane and waiting for her bags, giving me the cold shoulder. I was so pissed, I ignored her attempts at talking to me the entire car ride home and after dinner that night.

She’s so incredibly selfish. We’re supposed to be doing this thingtogether. That’s what she promised when she proposed this insanity. I’m the only one who seems to grasp the gravity of what could happen if we’re caught. So, in my own petulant act of payback, I left her to flounder.

Not my best moment, let me tell you.

Every question directed her way was met with a vague response. It got to be so much that she threw her hands in the air in a mock tantrum and insisted they stop talking about school when this was her only time away. I didn’t miss the suspicious look on Divina’s face before they turned their interrogation to me, and I had even less to go off.

Plain and simple: if we don’t get it together before we leave on Sunday, we’re thoroughly fucked.

I’m tired of fighting, anyway. I have so much to share with her. This is the longest we’ve gone without talking or seeing each other, and we’re wasting it.

So, after an insanely awkward dinner where I was essentially ignored by everyone but Uncle Graysen, I decide to tuck away my ego and make my way across the hall.

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