Page 93 of The Pawn

It couldn't be.

But it is.

The same looping lowercase E. The same messy slant to the letters. Thick marks and broad strokes.

Cole gave me the very information that took him down. He grabbed both accident reports, changed them just enough to remove the photo of the body in the trunk and the record of two fatalities, and sent them straight to Legacies.

He used me to expose himself publicly. All this time, I thought that I was facing up against him and his friends, squaring off in a battle of the ages. I had no idea that everything I did, including that blog post that sent him running, was at his behest.

Reeling, I stare up into his eyes. The other boys are here now too, soaking in the storm. Rain slides down their chiseled blue blood faces. Water pools in their lips that speak lies—lips I've kissed, believing I was the snake, oblivious that I was really the fool. The naive little girl.

The pawn in their games.

"Why did you do all this?" I have to shout to be heard over the storm. "I have as much right to go here as the four of you! There's no reason to turn me into some kind of social pariah."

"I thought you said that you didn't care if anyone found out your real name." Tanner is smug, careless, and effortlessly charming. "If it bothers you so much, though, you can justleave. It's not like you belong here."

You don't belong here. This place isn't meant for you. Poor little lamb. Thief, liar, and traitor.

"Fuck you!" I explode at Tanner, stepping forward and shoving him. He stumbles back, looking startled more than anything.

"Getting rid of my brother wasn't enough, was it? You had to go for me too!" I glare at each of them in turn. "You could've told people the truth thewholetime. We both know he was a drug dealer, not a rapist. But you let everyone believe theworst."

Cole's voice is challenging. "Did I lie? Was henotresponsible for what happened to Mariana? He brought roofies all the way to orientation week. No onemadehim sell them."

This is the dark heart of the storm that's been swirling inside me since I saw the video Mariana sent me, the question without an answer, because the dead don't speak: why did Silas do what he did? Was he really that hard up for cash? Was it some kind of one time thing, or had he been doing it in Wayborne too?

I knew that he liked smoking weed, and that he'd experimented with hallucinogens. His crowd of friends in high school weren't the same crowd as mine. But what he put in his body was none of my business, and if he turned towards pills, it was because he had to in order to chase away the pain of our father's fists.

He couldn't exactly go to the doctor and ask for pain medication without our family being reported to CPS. Silas's greatest fear, more than anything, was that we would be forcibly separated if he ever let the truth about Daddy slip. We both knew Mom couldn't take care of both of us on her own—she didn't have the strength or the money.

So he found weed, and pills, maybe even other things I never knew about, or refused to look at closely. But he didn't deal. Or if he dealt, he didn't deal...that.Date rape drugs. Evil things for evil boys and men.

"For all he knew, that boy was going to take them himself," I respond, a feeble excuse none of us is buying. "But it doesn't matter. Webothknow who really assaulted that girl. And you didnothingabout it. You just let everyone think an innocent person committed a crime."

It's Lukas's angry voice that responds, shocking me. "Unlike you, who definitively points fingers at the wrong people."

I recoil at the venom in his voice, meeting his blue eyes. We've only seen each other in class and during meetings about our project lately, and he's seemed cordial every time. I didn't think he hated me.

I also didn't think he knew that I was Legacies.

Tanner demands, "Why would you do that to him?" He advances on me, his clever brown eyes staring me down. "It was one thing to post my personal business on your stupid blog. Lukas never didanythingto you. And he certainly didn't rape Mariana."

"I know he didn't!" I snap, cast back to that terrible mistake. "That post never should've gone live." Looking at Lukas, I add, "I printed a retraction as soon as I realized it was Hass who really did it."

A stone cold silence descends on the group. Cole mutters, "What did you say?"

Blake reaches out and grabs his shoulder. "I've got this." He advances on me too, and I cower back, my feet aching, dress torn, and heart bruised. Staring down at me, Blake says, "You keep poking your nose where it doesn't belong. If you're not careful, you'll go the way of your brother."

Hot biles rises up inside me. I taste bitterness on my tongue. Cold rain falls on my skin, and my wet dress clings to me, but suddenly I'm overwhelmingly hot.

The fire of my rage rises up inside me to consume and destroy everything. It's like a beast with a mind of its own, incapable of being tamed or forgotten. It takes everything: the way I felt when I kissed Cole, the soft ache I held for Lukas, how I let Tanner's dancing mirth infect me, and even my insatiable curiosity to know if Blake's darkness was like mine.

I let myself be drawn to them.

Sometimes I even believed that they could be different.

But I've seen my brother's body lowered into a coffin in the ground. I cut him down from a branch that never should have held his weight. Whatever I deserve from them, however they want to attack me, they won't do to me what they did to him.

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