Page 15 of The Players

Señora Gibson gapped at me, her wrinkled mouth dropping open like a fish before puckering. Her rheumy eyes blinked rapidly before she said, “Who’s Savannah?”

Oh, Jesus.

“I’m Savannah,” she said, standing up and holding up her hand as if to show she was unarmed. “I’m new to this class today, and I was asking this nice girl for her copy of the syllabus when she… she freaked out on me.” Savannah wrapped her arms around her torso as if she were barely holding onto herself.

I had to hand it to her, she looked terrified.

I simply looked… crazy.

But that photo. Sure, it was horrible. One of the worst things I’d ever seen, but there was something else about it. It was a photo I’d never seen before. It was not in any of the information the police had provided me, nothing the lawyers my grandmother hired had dug up. It appeared as if it had been taken right after my parents had been killed, even though I hadn’t stumbled upon the scene for hours after their deaths.

That meant…That meant Savannah had new information on my parents’ murder!She must’ve gotten that from Easton.

“I need that photo,” I said, barely containing myself. How could I? This was everything. This couldchangeeverything. I could finally clear my father’s name and put the person responsible in jail where they belonged.

“Give me the phone,” I insisted.

Savannah blinked at me with those doe eyes. So fake. Such an actress.

I wanted to smack that look off her stupid, fake face.

Señora Gibson lumbered up. “What’s this about a phone? We don’t allow those in class, young lady,” she said to Savannah before turning to me. “Though we don’t make outbursts in class either, Señorita Romero. I don’t think I need to remind you how precarious your position is at this school, do I?”

I shook my head. I’d already been dismissed once this school year and then reinstated when I’d proven the accusations against me were all fabricated by the Lords and their lackeys. Señora Gibson must’ve missed that memo.

“But Señora Gibson,” I said, persisting. “There’s a picture on Savannah’s phone. Something against school policy. You should take a look.” I pointed toward the front of Savannah’s Academy sweater where she’d stashed the phone.

Señora Gibson held out a trembling hand. “Phone, por favor, Sarah.”

“It’s Savannah,” she said, unable to hide her disgust for the woman. Slowly, she extricated her phone from her cleavage and handed it to Señora Gibson.

Señora Gibson frowned and snatched the phone from the girl, mumbling something about a “bad start” before glancing at the device. “What’s this about a photo?”

Savannah shook her head. “I was trying to take a photo of the class syllabus so I could figure out how to do well in your class,” she said, lying through her teeth.

“It was a violet photo. A very disturbing image,” I said. “Bloody.”

Savannah tossed me a dirty look before adopting her innocent doe-eyed expression. “I don’t know what she’s talking about, but I’ll scroll through my photos so you can see, Señora Gibson.”

Savannah unlocked her phone and pulled up her photo gallery. She scrolled through a bunch of selfies, pictures of expensive dinners, and photos on beaches and in vacation spots, before shrugging. “See. I told you. I don’t know what she’s talking about.Ella esta loca de la cabeza.” She wound one finger around her ear as if to indicate I was crazy.

I thought about objecting. I thought about making a fuss, but I knew that right now was not the time. She’d either deleted the photo or had it in a secret folder I was unlikely to find here. Savannah had won this battle, but, by showing me that photo, I knew I could win the war.

The Hillsdidknow who killed my parents. They had evidence to prove it. All I had to do now was find it.

Chapter seven

Whentheschooldayended, I could not get home fast enough. I didn’t wait around to chat with anyone or make plans later with friends or with the guys. Instead, I hopped in my old, reliable shit wagon and burned rubber, beating the end-of-the-day traffic jam and pulling out without looking back.

I needed to get home. I had some investigating to do.

As much as I hated the thought of digging through the old files we’d pieced together after my parents’ murder, I knew I had to. I needed to make sure that photo on Savannah’s phone wasn’t something that had been included in evidence. I wanted to make sure I wasn’t crazy and having some sort of PTSD reaction to being shown something so awful in the middle of my Spanish class.

I wanted someone to tell me I wasn’t crazy. The Hillsdidhave evidence about who murdered my parents.

My mind swam as I drove. Could the murderer have taken that photo? It looked like it had been taken directly after my parents had been killed. The basement floor wasn’t coated in blood like it had been when I’d stumbled down there which meant it had to be taken before I returned home. The coroner had said that they’d been dead three hours before I’d found them, but since there’d been no evidence of forced entry and no one had been seen going into or out of the house, they’d ruled it a murder/suicide. My grandmother and I had fought that tooth and nail. We both knew my father couldn’t have done this, but there was no evidence suggesting otherwise and Hector’s father was too damn lazy to look for any other leads.

But this photo… could change everything.

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