Page 28 of Cruel Prep (Princes of Ravenlake Academy 1)

I remembered one face, and it didn’t do any good. Despite going directly to the police, Nico Barber received a slap on the wrist, and his parents rushed him overseas to a luxurious boarding school. Hardly a punishment.

The police never found the girl I swore I saw, so they didn’t have any proof of rape. Just proof that I’d been beaten and knocked unconscious. And apparently, my life isn’t worth more than Nico Barber’s. Not to the Ravenlake police, anyway.

I’m almost back at the parking lot now. I see Mom seated at a picnic table with her back to me. She must’ve finished up her walk early, too.

But when I get close, she jumps up, startled.

She wipes at her eyes, but no amount of wiping can hide the obvious signs of distress. Her eyes are bloodshot and swollen. Fresh, wet tears coat her cheeks.

“Mom?”

She waves me away and tries to smile, but her lip trembles. “I’m fine.”

I recognize the words for what they are: a lie. I know because I just repeated that lie to myself a thousand times.

She’s not fine. I’m not fine. None of us are fine.

I’m sweaty, but I wrap my arms around my mother’s trembling frame. She doesn’t resist the comfort. She lays her head on my shoulder and lets out a sob.

“I’m the mom. I’m not supposed to cry.”

“Says who?” I ask, smoothing down her hair.

I look over her head and see her cell phone sitting on top of the picnic table. The screen shows a picture of her and my dad when they were younger.

My mom and I look so much alike that, if it wasn’t for the frosted lip gloss and white eye shadow, I could almost believe it was me. We have the same long blonde hair, the same heart-shaped face, and the same crooked smile that tilts up on the right side a bit more than the left.

I can’t look at my dad.

He hardly aged over the years. His hair thinned, but his face was timeless to me.

Looking at him at twenty was akin to looking at him at thirty-five, and truthfully, I don’t want to see pictures of him at any age. Not when so many other things are going on.

If I do, I’ll be weeping right alongside my mother, and I can’t do that. She needs me to be her rock right now.

She has grown thinner over the years—this last year more than ever before. My mom doesn’t run or exercise the way I do, but we are almost the same size. Except, where I’m strong and curved, she is sharp bones.

There have been many times over the last few months where she didn’t eat.

Especially while I was in the hospital.

“Let’s go get something to eat, dear,” she says, pulling away from my hug and patting me on the cheek. “We can do pizza or hamburgers or ice cream. Whatever you want.”

“We don’t have to,” I say. “If you want to save the money, then I’m fine eating a sandwich.”

She shushes me with a frown. “No, we both deserve a treat after this week. My vote is ice cream and French fries.”

“Sweet and salty,” I say, licking my lips. “Okay.”

We get back in the car and go to the drive-through. Neither of us say much.

I order a cookies and cream shake with a large bag of fries. Mom goes for the dulce de leche with tater tots.

My shake is mostly liquid by the time we get back to the motel, but I don’t mind. I drink it like a smoothie as we watch trash television on the staticky TV in the room.

Outside of this room, everything is a mess. Finn is—shit, I don’t know what he is. Same goes for Dallas, for Cora, for Ravenlake Prep. Nothing makes sense.

But right here, there’s just fast food and my mother and terrible shows on the television.

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