When Stars Come Out (When Stars Come Out 1)

“Maybe he's not here yet,” Lennon suggests.

I watch Shy's mom and dad longer than necessary. They interact with several adults, shaking hands, giving hugs, offering and accepting condolences. It makes me feel like an imposter. What am I doing here?

I don't belong.

At that moment, Mr. Savior's eyes cut to me and my breath freezes in my throat. His gaze is unsettling in a way I can't describe, except to say I think he knows exactly what I'm thinking, and he agrees.

I twist toward Lennon. “I'll be back.”

I don't give her a chance to ask where I'm going before heading down the hall, unable to shake the weight of Mr. Savior's stare. I don't actually know where I'm going, but when I see a bathroom up ahead, I make a beeline for it.

That is, until Thane Treadway comes down the opposite end of the corridor.

I halt, torn between retreating into the bathroom and turning around to find Lennon again.

“I didn't think you would be here,” Thane says before I can make a decision to move.

Dammit.

“Why wouldn't I come? Lily and I—” I don't finish that sentence. What can I say? Lily and I were friends? We had a handful of conversations.

Thane takes a few deliberate steps toward me.

“She's dead because of you,” Thane says harshly. “So don't say you're here for her. You're here because you feel guilty.”

I flinch, but maybe he’s right. Maybe I don’t know the difference between mourning and guilt.

“I didn’t kill her!” I hiss.

“You might not have pulled the trigger, but you gave someone the gun. Isn’t that how you did it? You trapped Vera’s spirit in the coin and then lost it.”

When I don’t answer, Thane laughs under his breath.

“This will keep happening, you know. It can be a never-ending cycle. Is that what you want? More funerals to attend?”

I glare at him, nails digging into the skin of my palms. Thane’s eyes fall to my hands, and I jump when he reaches for my arm. “Stop.”

His touch is like a shock to my joints, forcing my bones to straighten and relax. It takes me a moment, but I finally ask, “How do you know about the coin?”

“I know my history,” he says, and his smile is like blood smeared across his face. “It’s not the first time someone’s gotten ahold of resurrection coins. Why do you think we have curfew?”

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We stare at one another, and I feel as I did before in Thane’s presence—trapped. I don’t like being vulnerable.

Still, he’s had suspicions about me for over a week and hasn’t told anyone. What is his deal?

“What do you want from me?”

He maintains that smudge of a smile.

“Meet me at June’s Cafe for coffee at three.”

“You want a date?” I’m disgusted.

He laughs. “Don’t flatter yourself. It’s best not to talk here, and if you must know, I won’t pass up the chance to make Savior jealous when I can.”

It’s then I notice he’s not even looking at me. His gaze has traveled over my head. I twist and find Shy standing in the crowd, frozen in place. He’s pale and his eyes look like glittering diamonds. I’m not sure if they glisten from unshed tears or anger.