Allison Hawthorne is dead - murdered in cold blood. Six lives remain at stake. The best part? I'm only getting started.
The Beacon Heights High School has been a gateway to the world of the elite for over two decades, but when newcomer April Park s...
"So Maeve finally decided to come clean?" Detective Richardson asked.
"I'm afraid so, or rather, relieved." I answered.
"But doesn't that defeat the entire purpose of the 'game'? If Maeve's got no more secrets to keep, she would be immune to the murderer's threats." He shrugged.
I leaned forward in my seat. "Detective, our secrets were in no way, controlling the murderer. They were controlling us. The 'butterfly' was like a Djinn, sensing our worst fears and tracking their next prey by following the scent. As for Maeve, she would've been on her toes even when she had nothing hide. The murderer tried to kill her twice, and they wouldn't hesitate doing it for a third time."
"So, what was your next step?"
I breathed out deeply. "There was no stopping the murderer then. The best we could do was... avoid the casualties."
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"Thank you everyone for being here..." Maeve said to the five of us who had gathered in our dormitory that evening.
"Cut to the chase, Maeve. We don't have all day." Grace ordered before rolling her eyes at her sister.
Maeve nodded her head immediately and lowered her gaze. Pausing for a second, she started in a low amplitude, "I... I'm really sorry, Francesca, for what I did to you." Her voice quivered as she talked to the one whose reputation she had sabotaged.
"Maeve, I don't need another one of your 'real' apologizes. The matter in discussion is why you did what you did." Francesca folded her arms at Maeve.
Taking in a long-drawn breath, she finally started explaining. "Do you remember freshman year? How all of us were new to Beacon Heights, unaware of how much of a home it would become to us later on?" Grace nodded solemnly. "Ironically, I was the timid Rosenstein back then. Good ol' times, if I may."
