Page 15 of Tell Me Why
But it’s only a matter of time before one of the Sacred Sons slips up. And when they do, I’ll be right there, ready to jump on it.
On a random Thursday, I’m half-heartedly flicking a feather duster over the massive collection of leather-bound books in the study. Every time I’m in here alone, I make it a point to thumb through at least twenty books, looking for hidden pieces of paper,anything. I’ve already finished the history and geography sections.
Now, I’m working my way through the philosophy section, when I come across a book that’s sticking out, just slightly, like someone took it out, and didn’t push it all the way back in.
Pulling the red leather-bound book out gently, I glance at the gold-embossed title—Plato’s The Republic.Hm, okay. As I carefully flip to the first page, the book naturally opens to the middle, and I immediately see why. There’s a folded slip of paper wedged between the pages.
My heart rate kicks up, but I try not to gettooexcited, because it could be nothing. I’ve already found a couple of random pieces of paper inside the books—scribbled notes, or a random receipt—but this piece of paper is soft with well-worn edges, like it’s been opened many,manytimes.
Unfolding the paper, I’m immediately confused. It’s a hand-drawn diagram of three circles nestled within each other. The outermost circle is lined with numbers in sequential order. The middle circle is the English alphabet arranged clockwise. And the innermost circle has a bunch of weird symbols. The whole thing is divided like a pie chart with lines coming from the center, so each number lines up with a specific letter and set of symbols. It almost looks like…
Wait, is this a cypherdecoder?
Holy shit.
Blinking down at the diagram, I try to absorb the importance of what I’ve just found. It makes sense that the Burning Crown would write all their shady shit in code—and of course, they’d need something like this to decode it. Memorizing all this would be insane. Some of these letters have three or four symbols assigned to them.
A floorboard creaks in the hallway, and I quickly jam the decoder back into the book and shove it onto the shelf, moving my duster around likethere’s nothing to see here…
“Oh, hey, I thought that was you,” a voice chirps. I spin around to see Skye peering around the doorway, like she’s afraid of getting caught talking to me. “How are you holding up?”
Wow, loaded question. I shrug. “Only two months, twelve days, and eight hours to go. Not that I’m keeping track.” I flash her a tight smile. “Oh, hey, were you able to text my brother for me?”
Sin isinsanelyprotective, like psycho-level protective, and when I came to Rush House, I knew he was going to be my biggest obstacle. There was no way in hell he’d ever allow me to come here, under any circumstances, let alone to be the Sacred Sons’ new toy. So I had to come up with a reason why I’d be gone. Originally, I’d just planned to call or text him every couple of days, so he wouldn’t get suspicious. But since the Sacred Sons took my phone, I’ve had to get creative.
“Yeah, girl, about that—I don’t think he believes the whole ‘lost phone’ thing. He’s asking why your new phone keeps getting delayed. Yesterday, he said he was going to drop a new phone off to you personally—and it sounded like a threat.”
It was definitely a threat.Fuck. If Sin comes to campus to drop a phone off and he doesn’t see me, in the flesh, he’s going to flip. And by “flip,” I mean, “tear this whole campus apart.” It won’t be pretty, that’s for sure.
“Thanks,” I say. “Just…hold him off if you can. I’ll think of something.”
Voices approach from down the hall, and Skye glances over her shoulder. We’re still trying to keep our friendship on the down-low.
“I’ve got to run,” she says. “But I wanted to warn you—Christian is planning something and it involves you.”
Oh. Honestly, I thought he’d all but forgotten about me. Aside from a few stray commands here and there, like “polish the dining room table naked” or “dust the study in your bra,” he’s mostly lost interest in me. Which is fine. I’m not complaining.
“What’s he planning?” I ask, heart in my throat. I just pray it isn’t some new and twisted way to torment me.
She shakes her head. “I don’t know, but he’s having a few of the Debs deliver invites to the membership later today. If I find out what it’s about, I’ll try to get word to you…”
Before I can even ask her, “How?” she’s gone.
When I’m done in the study, I dust the music room, my gaze straying to a hand-painted portrait of a girl, about my age, with dark brown hair and green eyes. She catches my attention because it’s one of the only portraits of a woman in this entire house. And there’s something hauntingly ethereal about her.
“What’s your story?” I whisper, my eyes tracing the lines of her delicate face. Probably something tragic.
With a sigh, I move on to the massive dining room, which is easily the length of my entire childhood apartment. Thankfully, though, there aren’t a ton of things that need to be dusted in here, so it’s quick.
I’m just dusting the last thing—the mantel—when I notice a section of wood paneling that’s separated. I pull on it gently and discover it’s actually a hidden door that leads into a small, mostly empty closet—only a couple of shelves and a polished wooden box. I open the lid and peer inside to see a pair of silver candlesticks. They look old. I bet they’re worth a fortune.
I’m just closing the closet door when I hear heavy footsteps approach. I turn around to see Christian in the archway that adjoins the music and dining rooms.
“There you are,” he says in that lazy, surfer-boy drawl. He leans against the wooden casing, arms crossed over his massive chest. He looks both casual and completely at ease in this insanely lavish house. But what disturbs me most is his pale, ghostly stare. It has a way of sucking me in and holding there.
“Here I am,” I reply with a gulp. “But I’m done, and I was just about to go back upstairs.”
If I’m not cleaning or being subjected to some humiliating task, then I try to stick to the bedroom I was given. It has a television, a mini-fridge, and its own bathroom. It’s like having a studio apartment.
