Page 17 of The Snake in the Grass: The Prequel

They won’t see me coming, either.

Chapter 10

Ididn’t remember sending the email until I got the reply.

It was the night before his funeral. I was sleeping on the pullout couch in my aunt’s living room. Daddy was staying in a hotel; Mom won’t talk about why, but I can guess. It doesn’t seem to matter, even though once upon a time it would’ve been all that mattered.

I could feel the fire growing inside me, looking for fuel to burn. And I was afraid the only tinder it’d ever find would be me. Death didn’t seem so bad when I knew who was waiting for me on the other side.

So I opened the email and scanned it with uninterested eyes. It didn’t matter what the admin running the Legacies blog had to say about what Coleridge did to my brother. I was the last person to see him, after all, and I was sure in that moment that what he did was my fault. I’d replayed our final conversation over and over again in my head, blaming myself. Nothing was worse than the moment I rose from the ground, formed my hand into a fist, and punched him in the side. I was sure it was what tipped him over the edge.

If he’d only had me, I told myself, he wouldn’t have had a reason to die.

That’s what I thought. Until I read the message.

Brenna,

I have to admit, I’ve let a hundred emails lie dormant in this account’s inbox since the day I stepped away from Legacies. But not this one. This one, I couldn’t pass by.

I’m sorry about what happened to your brother. That kind of harassment is not okay, and it should never have happened. Whatever the filthy rich teens of Coleridge Academy think happened that night, none of them know the truth, but all of them have decided what it is, because it fits their preconceived notions of what people with fewer means are like: animals.

I hope your brother Silas is okay.

I had to lean back from my phone at this and wipe the tears from my eyes. Blinking through them, I read the rest of the email.

If you want to find the truth at the center of all the lies, it’s going to take some time. That’s the bad news. The good news is, mobs like this move on quickly. They’ll find their next target for righteous harassment soon. In the meantime, do not engage. I can’t stress that enough. People like this have nothing to lose, and you can’t predict their next actions. I suggest you stay far away from the internet mob.

But that doesn’t mean you can’t investigate the truth. If there really is a video, track it down. If you can find the alleged victim, learn what she has to say straight from her own lips. Gather evidence, and give it time. Whenever and however you choose to enlighten the rich masses, make sure you go in prepared. This is not the sort of thing to do half-cocked.

Unfortunately I can’t help you. Like the person who ran Legacies before me, I’ve started a career, a family, and a life of my own. To be honest, I don’t have the time, even though I know the blog is something the world needs: accountability for the young, rich, and soon-to-be powerful.

Maybe you have the time, though. If you do, nothing is a better source for tips than this blog and this email inbox. So I’m handing them over to you. Do with them what you will.

I’m also handing over a tip for you: look into The Elites. They’re starting at Coleridge this fall as juniors, but they’ve been running in the circle of its incoming class for over a decade. The richest of the rich, they’re certainly behind what happened to your brother—none of their crowd makes a single move without their say-so. When they tear someone down, they stay down. In their minds forgiveness is something only the richest deserve, and guilt is decided by their hands. Nothing would give me more joy than to see them be held publicly accountable.

There’s one more thing I have for you: the attached enrollment packet. It’s yours if you want it. You can’t run an investigation without a source on the inside, and there’s none better than your own two eyes. Not to mention it sounds like your brother shouldn’t be heading to Coleridge on his own. So go with him, and slake your thirst for the truth.

Just don’t ask how I got it. Needless to say, I gave my share of favors in the time I ran Legacies, and I’m owed plenty in return. Your admission into the academy is the culmination of the last of those favors; after this, I have none left.

Do with it what you will.

Best,

Legacy II

I stared at the email for several long minutes. My reverie was only broken by the sound of soft footsteps coming down the stairs. Flicking the light at the end of the hall on, my mother entered the living room, her thin wisp of a silhouette backlit as she approached the pullout bed on quiet feet.

“I thought you’d still be awake.” Perching at the edge of the bed, she reached out and smoothed my hair down. “You shouldn’t be reading on such a tiny screen.”

“My computer and tablet both got ruined in the storm,” I pointed out. “This phone is all I’ve got.”

She was quiet for a moment. Then she offered, “Your brother’s laptop was in my car. I’ve still got it. It’s yours if you want it.” Leaning down to kiss my forehead, she cupped my cheek with a thin, warm hand. “He’ll always be with us, you know. He’s watching over us even now.”

Mouth dry, I murmured something agreeable, even though I found it impossible to imagine my brother up in the clouds with angels and harp music. It just seemed too ridiculous to contemplate.

All I knew was that I would get to turn seventeen, but he wouldn’t.

“I think the laptop would be helpful,” I told my mom. “For school, if nothing else.”

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