But I also wanted to murder that pedophile fuck.
I didn’t know where this overwhelming desire for justice came from. It must’ve been the same impulse that made me step in every time I heard Uncle Bernard about to beat up Robyn. It had been the reason I’d done it back when I’d been small and had taken the full force of his wrath instead of letting Robyn get hit. These days it was easier to get involved, but back then it had taken a lot of balls.
Back then, I’d had a lot of bruises. I’d had to get good at hiding.
Dr. Silver deserved whatever he got. The piece of garbage had the gall to present himself in public as some fine, upstanding citizen and protector of children and the vulnerable and some shit, while simultaneously ruining lives with his sick, twisted sexual needs.
I could almost understand why her parents hadn’t believed her. It’d be hard to fathom that a guy like Dr. Silver would do something so brutally horrible, especially to your own child—and yet there was no part of me that questioned Cora’s story.
Maybe I should’ve pressed her. She wanted me to murder the guy, after all, and the least I could do was make sure he was guilty.
I had no interest in playing that game.
Cora had said he’d done it, so he’d done it. People didn’t lie about that sort of thing, especially not when the stakes were so unfathomably high.
Dr. Silver had to die. There was no question in my mind.
He was too well-positioned to keep doing this shit over and over and over.
The only question was how I’d pull it off.
6
Cora
Buying a burner phone was surprisingly easy. My parents didn’t even ask why I left the house on my bike at seven and came back an hour later half frozen from riding in the cold.
I got the phone set up then signed up for a VPN on my laptop.
Jarrod was right. I hated to admit it, but I’d been doing all this stuff out in the open for the past few years. I cringed thinking what kind of footprint I’d left. When we finally ended Dr. Silver, I only hoped that the detectives assigned to his case didn’t come searching for me, because I was sure they’d find something incriminating.
But at least I could try to do better now.
The next day I met Jarrod outside of his history class before it started and shoved a piece of paper with my burner number on it. He barely glanced at me twice, but put the scrawled note in his pocket as he brushed past.
My stomach did flips as I sat in the library, leg bouncing, waiting for him to message.
I was really doing this.
I was going to help Jarrod murder a man. Dr. Silver would finally pay for what he did to me and my brother all those years ago, and no matter what happened afterward, at least I could live the rest of my life knowing I did the right thing.
That I saved countless victims from his slimy fingers.
I shivered and stared out the window of the library, and didn’t notice a figure sit down across from me. I looked over and nearly screamed.
Calvin Solar stared at me with an uncanny intensity.
Of the Four Horsemen (another version: The Four Horsecocks), he was the strangest. Not that it impacted his popularity at all; in fact, if anything, his mysterious, stand-offish nature made women want him even more and men feel like they had to prove themselves around him, as if he were judging them silently.
I didn’t know what to make of him, and definitely didn’t know what the hell to think of him sitting across from me in the library, staring at me silently.
“Uhh, hey, Calvin.”
He tilted his head and frowned like he was an alien and didn’t know how to communicate with a silly primitive human yet.
“Can I, uh, help you with something?”
I’d never spoken to Calvin before in my life and his presence did not make me feel any better about murdering someone.
“What’s your deal, Cora?”
His voice was deep and soft. I blinked a couple times, trying to process his words. “What’s my deal?”
“Your deal. Your thing. What’s your truth?”
I laughed nervously. “I can’t tell if this is some weird New Agey thing or a prank.”
“You came to Addler’s house the other night and talked with Jarrod. What do you want with him?”
I went very still.
I hadn’t realized anyone noticed. But of course they did. When one of the Horsemen walked past, all eyes inevitably turned toward him, and some of those eyes must’ve noticed me floundering along in his wake.
How Calvin knew about it, I had no clue.
“Tutoring,” I said lamely. “Remember?”
He snorted. “Nobody comes to Addler’s place to talk about tutoring.”
“I do. I’m a goody two-shoes. That’s what everyone says, anyway.”