"How?"
"We see Parker out at some of the same places we do back home. And I just met Joey ... that night. Why am I telling you this?"
"Did you ask who's paying for you to go to Blackwood?"
"No. It didn't come up." Honestly, it wasn't a priority when I spoke with Niall. I was more concerned about why I was sent here at all.
"You need to ask him," he insists, obviously frustrated by my lack of knowledge or concern. But he's not exactly helping clarify why I should care either. "How else do you know Niall?"
"What are you talking about? I don't ..." But then I realize my mother knew him before I did.
"Tell me."
"No. Not until you explain why you're asking so many questions. What do you think I can help you figure out?"
"Who killed my mother."
I stare at him. His dark eyes don't waiver. His lips don't quirk. There's a gravity to his tone. He's serious.
"I'm sorry," I whisper. "You think Niall had something to do with her death?"
"He knows who did."
Thaylina saw the man in the dark green cloak peering up at her from the bottom of the tower, and her heart leapt at the sight of him.
"Are you going to let me up?" he called to her.
The girl raced down the steps to unlock the door, disregarding the sorceress's instruction to not let anyone in.
"I knew you would," the man said, following her to the top of the tower.
The shuttle comes to a stop. I tear my eyes away from Brendan's and look out the window. We're already here. The ride was way too short today.
"We'll talk later." Brendan stands and moves swiftly down the aisle, picking up his phone before exiting the shuttle.
It takes me a minute to force my legs under me. I practically fall as I stumble down the steps. I'm being suffocated by secrets. And most aren't even mine.
"Lana, you'll be training with Kaely today at The Grille," Cary tells me when I clock in at the computer. "You know the correct uniform for The Grille, right?"
"Yes," I reply absently, walking in a daze to the locker room. I am so lost in the haze of half-truths, I don't register there's a body standing in front of me until I bump right into it. "Sorry."
My eyes connect with Grant's sky blue ones. He's holding my elbow to balance me, a look of concern on his face. "Lana? You alright?"
"Oh, yeah. Sorry. Just ... thinking."
"And that makes walking difficult?" he teases.
I shake out of my daze and offer a weak smile. "Evidently."
"Where are you working today?"
"The Grille."
"That's too bad. I'm at the Ninth Bar with Stefan. Save me a seat at staff meal?"
"Uh, sure," I reply, my brain slowly deciphering what he said.
Grant continues past me, glancing back once as I stand like an idiot, staring after him. My brain seriously can't handle any of this today.