“I told you if you kept calling her that I was going to crack your skull, Thatch. Knock it the fuck off,” he grunts. “And no, she’s with Lyra studying in her dorm tonight.”
I stand up at this and face the woods where they will have to walk through, my mind heading into defense mode.
You don’t just randomly stumble on this place. You would have to know it’s here in order to find it. Which means whoever is headed in this direction knew we would be here.
We wait, my fist tightening in the silence. Only the crackling of the fire fills the air until we hear the crunching of snow, and soon our visitor is coming through the trees into the light and leaving the shadows.
“Well, I wasn’t expecting that,” Thatcher breathes, probably just as shocked as the rest of us.
Light red hair appears from the trees, her stylish bob swaying just beneath her chin. Her hands are shoved deep into her jacket pockets as she walks closer to the edge of the Peak where we all stand, almost too stunned to speak.
Soon that shock melts away, and I’m quickly heated with aggravation.
“How the fuck did you get here?”
Sage doesn’t even flinch at Alistair’s voice, just keeps her head up and continues her walk in our direction.
After everything she’s gone through, the asylum still hadn’t broken that fighting spirit. The one that refused to let her back down from anyone.
Good. I’m glad she still has her backbone.
It’ll make it that more satisfying when I rip it straight out from her flesh, breaking that spirit once and for all.I’ll crush her completely beneath my feet until she is nothing but dust that I can shove into the earth.
“I need to talk to Silas,” she says simply.
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“Your girlfriend, Briar, told me you guys were up here. She doesn’t know I came though. That a good enough answer, Alistair?”
When no one replies to her, she turns to Silas, who is still sitting in his seat, looking over at her. His eyes are glassy, stuck in some sort of trance.
“I know what you guys are up to,” she breathes, like it’s a relief to finally say it out loud. “And I want to help.”
I open my mouth to protest, spew some nasty comment about how she has no fucking clue what she is talking about, but I’m not fast enough.
“Not happening,” Silas mutters with a tight shake of his head. “Leave, Sage.”
“No.” She stands tall. “I know about the sex ring. I know about what really happened to Rosemary, and I know you four are cutting up bodies in retaliation. I know what my father did, and I deserve to make him bleed for it.”
My teeth grind until they are almost breaking apart.
“Pump the fucking brakes, Nancy Drew. You deserve it?” Alistair spits, a harsh scoff in his throat. “You treated Rose like shit when all she ever did was care about you. You don’t deserve it just because you feel guilty.”
“And you don’t think that doesn’t eat me alive?” Her head whips in his direction, eyes burning like those blue flames that had once scorched my skin. “Of course, I feel guilty, but that doesn’t mean you knew my relationship with my sister. You have no idea how much I cared about her. She was my fucking twin.”
“Sorry, you forgot to mention, how exactly do you know about all of this?” Thatcher’s sharp eyes analyze her every move, just waiting for her to lie.
“I saw the tape,” she whispers. “It was on his computer for blackmail, I’m assuming. I accidentally saw it, and I-I—” Her voice stutters, as her fingers reach up to her collarbone, rubbing above the spot where her scar sits, in the same spot I have a scar of my own.
“You, you, what? I don’t have all day.”
“I threatened to tell the police, and the next day I was in restraints and headed to a psych ward. Frank is a coward, but he’s smart. He knew that if people thought I was crazy, even if I did get out, they’d never believe me.” Her eyes move back to Silas, and they soften as they plead with him.
“Please, I can help you. I can get you close to my father, and that’s what you need right now, right? A way that doesn’t raise flags to all the cops around here? I can help you guys if you’re willing to help me.”
I stand with my jaw taut.
I’d once fallen for that—another act, another mask she slid over herself in order to get what she wants from people. None of it is genuine. There is no real Sage, because she doesn’t even know who she is to begin with.