Page 104 of The Bleak Beginning

“I tripped,” I mutter, knowing how weak the excuse sounds even as the words leave my mouth.

“You’re lying,” he says, his voice as dark as a storm cloud.

Sutton moves between us, her hand on Bishop’s chest. “That’s enough, Bishop,” she says firmly. “Let it go.”

His eyes flick to Sutton, a silent communication passing between them. For a moment, I think he might push past her, but then he takes a step back, his posture relaxing slightly.

“Fine,” he says, his voice bitter.

I suppress a shudder at his words, knowing it’s not an empty threat. Bishop has always had it out for me, but as the weeks trudge on, his animosity seems to grow more and more.

The other night, outside the abandoned natatorium, he looked like a puppet being controlled by two opposing forces: anger and defeat. I could see the desire in his eyes to give in to his primal emotions, but he was held back by his expectations. But none of that matters now because nothing happened between us. He has a girlfriend, and I refuse to pursue a Legacy, despite the temptation we both felt that evening.

“But don’t think this conversation is over, Prescott.”

He turns and stalks off into the darkness, leaving Sutton and me alone once more. My shoulders sag as a wave of tension leaves my body.

Sutton turns to me, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asks softly. “I know we’re not…close anymore, but if something’s wrong—”

“I’m fine,” I interrupt, perhaps harsher than needed, but we aren’t friends.

Sutton’s expression hardens at my tone, a flicker of hurt crossing her face before she masks it with indifference. “Right,” she answers coolly. “Suit yourself,” She shrugs, turning away.

As I make my way back to my dorm, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being watched. Every shadow seems to hide a potential threat, every creak of the old building makes me jump. By the time I reach my room, I’m a bundle of nerves, my hands shaking as I fumble with the key.

My thoughts are in such a jumble that I don’t even realize I have the wrong key until it falls to the ground with a loud clatter outside my door. The key Alfie gave me for my quest to join Club Bedlam. I curse under my breath and leave it to rot in the hallway out of frustration.

Fuck that key.

I finally manage to unlock my door and stumble inside, collapsing onto my bed with a heavy sigh.

I roll onto my side, my gaze falling on the discarded key glinting in the moonlight streaming through my window. Despite my frustration, I can’t bring myself to leave it there. With a groan, I force myself up and retrieve it, turning it over in my hand.

“You better open something soon,” I say, giving it a stern warning before shoving it into the drawer filled with all of Elle’s unopened letters.

Good riddance.

Chapter 22

Alex

“What are you in the mood for?” I ask Dolores, holding up two potential snack options for our night in. It was the night of Altair’s masquerade ball, but I had no desire to attend. Initially, I thought it could be a way to gather information from the Legacy's, but that desire has since faded. Staying in my room for the night sounds much more enjoyable.

My snake plant doesn’t answer.

“You’re right, I’m not really hungry anyway.” I sigh and put the snacks back down. Dolores has never been much for conversation, but she’s a good listener.

The silence of my room feels oppressive, broken only by the faint sounds of revelry drifting in through the open window. Chatter and laughter as students leave Prescott Dormitory to attend the party in the main building.

I find myself drawn to the window, peering out at the stream of well-dressed figures in suits and gowns making their way across the moonlit quad. Their masks glint in the silvery light, transforming familiar faces into mysterious strangers.

“Maybe we should have our own party,” I muse aloud. “What do you think? A little punch, some mood lighting?”

Dolores remains stoically silent, but I swear her leaves perk up a bit at the suggestion.

I hear a thump at my door, followed by the sound of Aubrey’s muffled voice saying, “Let me in.”

I open the door to find her standing there, her lacy mask shielding her large blue eyes, silky black dress shimmering in the dim hallway light.

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