Page 104 of Revelation (Private 8)
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EVIDENCE
I spent the next twenty-four hours on edge. Not only was I now looking forward to the Holiday
Dinner as the potential setting for my reconciliation with both Noelle and Josh, but I was dying to
get back into Ivy's room and do some more snooping. I had to find some real evidence that she
was my stalker and that she was plotting against Noelle. I had to put an end to her plans before I
lost my mind. Before Noelle lost her life.In the meantime, a thousand questions plagued me. Did
Ivy really kill Cheyenne? And if so, did Rose know about it, or was she only helping Ivy mess with
me? Why would Rose want to hurt Cheyenne? They had been such good friends. And why would
she want to hurt Noelle?
Too many questions. None of which would be answered by Rose, apparently, since I had left about
twenty messages on her voice mail and heard nothing back.
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But no matter. I could take care of this without her explaining--or, even better, admitting her guilt.
If I was on my own, I was on my own.
* * *
Friday morning I stood next to my door inside my room and waited for Ivy and Jillian to get their
stuff together and get out. The general noise in the hallways was convivial and excited. The Crom
had shortened all our classes for the day, so that they would all be crammed in before lunch,
giving us time to get ready for the Holiday Dinner that afternoon. The atmosphere in Pemberly
was not unlike the last day at Croton High before Christmas break. I could just tell no one was
going to be paying attention in class. We would all be too busy looking forward to the festivities.
But first, I had a mission.
I heard Ivy and Jillian's door close and they strode by my room, chatting about what they might
wear that night. Taking Sabine's advice to heart, I slid my iPhone into the back pocket of my jeans
and waited until their voices faded to nothing. Then I slipped out of my room and into theirs. This
time I went right for Ivy's dresser, yanking open the top drawer. All her things were folded and
lined up in perfect little rows, the black underwear separated from the white, separated from the
colorful. Crap. If I was going to search this stuff, I was going to have to do it carefully, meticulously.
Not good, considering how badly my hands were shaking.
