Page 8 of Switching Graves

“I’m not waiting,” the brunette insists. “They won’t let me.”

“Whowon’t? No one is forcing you to do anything, Connie.”

Holding her arms out at her sides, the brunette—Connie—spins in place with her head tilted toward the sky. “My ancestors, Dee. They won’t leave me alone.”

Shaking her head, Dee crosses her arms over her chest, her eyes darting around nervously like she’s waiting for something to pop out at her.

“They’re just in your head,” she grumbles quietly, and it feels like a reminder for herself more than anything else.

Connie’s head snaps back down, leveling her friend with a glare. “Don’t you dare try that bullshit with me. You know this is how these gifts work.”

“How else do you expect me to respond to that?” Dee practically shrieks.

“They want justice,” Connie says, her voice resolute. Like she’s fully convinced her words are true.

What kind of crazy people are they inviting to that school?

I tap Bane’s shoulder and point toward our left, where the trees are thicker and it will be easier to blend in. It’s the opposite direction we need to go, but we’ve been in these woods enough times to find our way back around.

“Listen, I know you’ve been stressed. This last semester is kicking my ass, too. I know you think this is how your gifts are, but there isn’t anyone else getting these potent urges. Maybe you should talk to someone about the things you’re experiencing. Someone who can actuallyhelpyou.”

“I don’t need medication. I need this place to burn to the ground.”

Dee releases a frustrated growl so loud my chest vibrates against the forest floor. “Who gives a fuck about random dead people? You should care more about the Syndicate. The very real, very alive group of people who are already catching on to your games.They’rethe ones who are going to force you into a padded room for the rest of your life.”

“All their threats do is prove how terrified they are of me,” the brunette retorts, picking at her nails.

“Of course, they’re terrified! You’re threatening the integrity of this entire university. What happens when it comes out that the Landrys somehow have surviving heirs? It could lead to a whole host of issues in the town.”

Bane and I share a look, and it dawns on each of us at the exact same time that we absolutely should not have overheardwhatever we did. The Landrys are supposed to have been long gone from a house fire with no trace left behind. Their branch of the Aeternum bloodline has been cut off for good. The only reason our town was ever able to recover from the mess they got us into was thanks to our ancestors jumping in to clean up their mess. There’s even a festival for it every year.

If this girl is who she claims she is, she’s just as evil as they were. Nothing good can come from having another Landry around.

And we know better than anyone that the Midnight Syndicate is like the boogeyman—a twisted tale about the town’s secret society that parents use to scare their kids into acting right. Our own father is the hand that brings down the punishment for anyone who steps out of line.

“What happens?” Connie, the crazy one, seethes. “What happens is they close this bullshit institution and begin repaying us reparations so this town can finally stop pretending they aren’t a bunch of murderous cockroaches.”

“There’s one problem . . .You’rethe only one who thinks they owe you anything. Your family has already accepted their hush money.”

“They’ll pay, too.”

“Connie, I’m begging you.Pleasedrop this. You’re messing with the lives of so many innocents and testing some of the most powerful people in the country. We’re leaving Nocturne Valley in a matter of weeks. We can put all of this behind us and let their karma come to them.”

“What if Iamtheir karma?”

Dee scoffs, then tries again. “I don’t want anything to happen to you. I’d die if I lost you.”

“I know you don’t believe me, but I was put here to make a difference. Everything our university stands on is based on stolen property. Theymurderedinnocent people who were onlytrying to help, and then they used their crime scene as a source to build their riches while suffocating their own town and silencing anyone who speaks out about it. I’ve read the diaries. It was horrific.”

Bane shifts to his knees and a branch snaps beneath his weight. He freezes in his spot, and I watch in slow motion as both girls’ heads twist in our direction, their angry gazes meeting our terrified ones.

“What the hell?” the blonde cries out, rushing toward us.

Bane and I don’t waste any time. I jump to my feet and both of us race back toward the river, zig zagging around to avoid tripping over any twisted vines or fallen branches. The women are right on our heels, screaming at us to stop, but we ignore their demands. We’ve seen what happens when locals are caught out here too many times to fall for their traps.

Just when we have a good lead on them, the trail ends and the river rushes before us, offering no escape. Any other day, it would be calm enough to go through, but the drainage has the current running too fast. We’d be swept up in seconds, and Bane can hardly swim. We could run alongside it and hope they give up their chase, but there’s no guarantee me or Bane can handle that. He’s already panting harder than usual, his weak lungs fighting for air.

“We can go through,” Bane suggests breathlessly, stopping to lean against a large tree.

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