“Yes.”
Dozens of emotions bash around in my chest, colliding with each other and making my pulse race.
Five years. Could I let my mom go to prison for five years? Let a murderer walk free to make sure she gets a light sentence? Do I even dare trust that Hollowell will keep his word? Would he come after us again as soon as she’s out?
I open my mouth, not even sure what I’m going to say, when a voice draws my attention.
“Harlow?”
Dax and Chase round the corner, followed almost immediately by Lincoln and River. They all freeze when they see me and Hollowell standing close together in conversation. Then Dax’s face splits in a shockingly believable smile.
“Oh, hey, Low. We were just about to come upstairs and see how you were doing. Are you feeling better?”
“Yeah,” I force out. “A bit. I just came downstairs to grab a snack.”
I hold up the little sandwiches I’m still clutching in my hands, although I’ve basically wadded them up so tight they’re one regular-sized sandwich by now.
Hollowell’s gaze shifts to the boys, regarding them for a second before he returns his focus to me, his voice still pleasant and even.
“Think about what I said, Harlow. I really would like to help you and your mom.” He tugs his cell phone from his suit pocket. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I stepped away from dinner to return a phone call, and I really should get to it.”
He gives a polite nod to the guys, then turns and heads toward the door, stepping outside as he taps the screen of his phone and brings it to his ear.
As soon as the door shuts behind him, the four boys’ demeanor changes instantly.
“Jesus. Fuck, Harlow, are you okay?” Chase steps closer to me, his voice low and a wild look in his eyes. “We all saw him get up to make a phone call, but I didn’t know you were down here. When he didn’t come back after a few minutes, we went to make sure, but—fuck, we should’ve followed him from the first second.”
“What did he say?” River’s face is serious and still.
“He knows,” I whisper, my voice shaky. “He figured out I know it’s him.”
“How?”
“I’m not sure.”
I glance toward the front door, wondering if Hollowell is really on the phone at all, or if he’s standing on the other side with his ear pressed to the wood, listening to everything we say.
Dax must have the same thought, because he jerks his chin toward a small anteroom off the foyer. We all pile into it, and as soon as he closes the door, I set the sandwiches on a little table by the door and look up at the boys.
“He knows I called Dunagan. He might know we were poking around asking Summer questions too. I’m not sure if it was one thing or a combination of things. He trapped me in the hall, and it felt like he was sort of… feeling me out. Dropping stronger and stronger hints of his suspicions, waiting to see how I’d respond. Maybe he didn’t know for certain until that exact moment, but he definitely knows now.”
“Fuck.” Lincoln’s single word contains a mountain of meaning. His amber eyes blaze as he steps forward, the muscles of his shoulders seeming to grow even broader as his hands clench into fists. “Did he threaten you?”
I shake my head, licking my lips. “No. Yes. He… offered me a deal.”
“What deal?” River asks.
“He said he’ll pull strings to get my mom a plea bargain and make sure she gets a reduced sentence if I stop looking into this. If I don’t talk to Detective Dunagan. If I let my mom take the fall for him.”
No one speaks for a long moment. I can tell the same thoughts I had are running through each of the guys’ minds. Weighing what this really means and wondering if we can trust Judge Hollowell to keep his word on anything.
“The bigger question is,” River says slowly, fiddling with the cufflink on his suit jacket, “what will he do if you don’t play along? If you go ahead and meet with Dunagan on Monday?”
Cold fear rushes through me like a blast of icy wind, and I lock my legs to keep from sinking down to the floor.
“I don’t know. I don’t know how safe I am here, or at school, or anywhere—but my mom’s a sitting duck. She’s locked in a fucking prison cell with nowhere to hide. And we don’t know who Hollowell’s got in his pocket. He could have someone go after her and then cover it up—”
I break off, refusing to even finish that sentence. I can’t bear to think about it.