“What did you do?”
“Nothing. Alice was a sick girl—you know that. You saw what she tried to do to you.” He shakes his head. “The gifts. Breaking in. The obsession. I’m sorry you had to put up with all that. I didn’t know.”
God, this man. This pathetic, disturbing, creepy-as-fuck man.
“Oh, you knew. You orchestrated this whole thing.” I lower my voice. “Did you strangle her, too?” Something clicks in my head. “Don’t tell me, she hung herself.”
A perfect way to hide the bruises.
“We should get you to the nurse. You don’t seem well.” He reaches out and tries to touch me.
I jerk back, heart thudding. “I’ll fucking castrate you.”
I turn away from him, from the condescending, manipulative look on his face, and step into the girls' bathroom. My heart races, my stomach recoils. God, Alice, what did you do? What did he do?
Something has to stop. It has to change. These assholes can’t get away with this anymore.
My fingers shake as I pull out the card I’d tucked away in my back pocket. I stare down at the name, number, and what it means if I actually make the call.
My phone vibrates.
Finn: Where are you?
Ozzy: Are you okay?
Ezra: Babe…
The guys, they’re not going to like it, but I think of the bruises on Alice’s neck. Just like the ones on Jacqueline’s.
That’s what gives me the courage to dial the number. I hold my breath until Agent Cole answers.
“I’ll do it.”
“Who is this?” she asks. “Kenley?”
“I’ll do it,” I say, looking at myself in the mirror—or wanting to. I want to be able to look myself in the eye, and if I don’t help the FBI, there’s no way I’ll ever be able to again. “I’ll help you take those bastards down.”