Page 68 of Good Girl

“Do we know why?”

“I caught her earlier,” Derek cut in, his voice a hard edge. “In my office. She was on my computer looking at grades.”

“Grades?” Concern bled into my chest, and I dragged my fingertips along the armrest, chasing a loose thread. “Is she failing?”

“No, not at all,” Derek insisted. “But that’s what she was doing. I tried to talk to her, but she bolted. When I went to her dorm after class, there was no one there.”

The concern began to flare hotter, and I glanced at Samuel who had the same uncertainty written over his own face.

“That... doesn’t sound like her,” Samuel said.

“I agree.” Everything about Charlotte screamed wholesome honesty. Trying to sneak and access her grades behind Derek’s back seemed far too shady for her.

“I’d say the same if I hadn’t caught her red-handed,” Derek growled, and he pushed up from the desk to resume his pacing. He clearly had so much pent-up energy and nowhere to put it.

“This isn’t right,” I decided softly. “Something isn’t right. Beyond how she left on Saturday or how she’s been ignoring us. Maybe something with her mother? She did always seem unhappy to go home.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Samuel muttered. “That woman seems archaic.”

“If she would answer her damn phone, maybe I could ask her.” Derek grunted. “But it’s all too much of a coincidence, don’t you think?”

I glanced at Derek and met his eye. We were both thinking it but no one was willing to say it.

The threats plus the fire and Charlotte accessing grades. did Paul have something on her? Was this all part of some terrible scheme that she had been roped into against her will?

“I’ll call her.” Digging out my phone, I wasn’t surprised when her number went to voicemail, but it didn’t ease the tension in my chest. We had told Charlotte before that communication was key, but something had to be stopping her. Something that she couldn’t talk to any of us about.

“She’s away home for the weekend,” Samuel piped up. I glanced at him, nose buried in his phone, and he turned the screen to show me a social media site I barely recognized. “Herbestieposted about missing her.”

Haley. That girl left a bitter taste in my mouth almost as bad as Paul did.

“Do we know where that is?” Derek asked. My mind immediately latched onto what he was implying. Charlotte was avoiding us for whatever reason and acting out of character.

“Yeah.” Samuel nodded. “She tagged Charlotte’s mother and has the place listed. Looks cozy. Quaint.”

“What are you thinking?” I asked Derek as if I didn’t already hold the answer in my own mind.

“I’m thinking that if I stay here, I’ll murder Paul the next time he crosses my path, and that isn’t great.” Derek paused his pacing and took a slow, calming breath that finally relaxed the rigid line of his shoulders.

“If Charlotte won’t come and talk to us, then we go to her.”

33

CHARLOTTE

“Alright, that’s you, then, and if you bring that receipt back with you the next time you stay here, you’re entitled to the return-stay discount.” It was taking all my energy to keep up the cheery tone and faux smile with each guest who passed by that morning, and I was fighting to keep the exhaustion at bay.

“Oh, that’s so cute!” The bubbly couple in front of me clutched at each other as they admired the receipt.

“We’ll definitely be back.” The blonde girl smiled. “It’s so lovely here.”

“Too cute!” her partner agreed. Seeing them both happy and clearly in love pulled my soured heart into my gut and I forced my fake smile wider.

“Thank you, it was lovely to have you!”

They spent a few more minutes murmuring over the decor of the inn before they finally left, and the fake smile instantly vanished from my lips. An ache had grown in my cheeks from keeping it on all morning and my back throbbed from keeping poker straight.

It’s all about making a lasting impression, my mother had drilled into me from the moment I had gained the ability to talk, and my childhood was fraught with lessons in servitude and customer service.

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