Page 138 of Goldsin

Not even Valentine thought about sparing the time to let me know.

Someonedied. Don’t be so full of yourself, the voice in my head says.

What is Julian thinking right now? He doesn’t know I wasn’t told. He probably thinks I didn’t care to attend. And I don’t care—they could have done whatever they liked with Lucian’s body. I just wanted to be there for Julian.

Just then my phone lights up.

Impatiently, I pick it up, fingers dirty with cookie crumbs and chocolate stains. I expect to see Julian’s name, but another Harrow name appears instead.

Adrian.

Why is Adrian texting me?

“Meet me now on the floor below ours. Need to talk.”

I reread his message. There’s no mention of the subject or why the unexpected urgency.

My curiosity piqued, I hop off the counter. I could meet up with him and then head to their apartment to finally see how Julian is doing.

“I’m going to meet Adrian real quick,” I say over my shoulder as I walk toward the door.

My hand is on the doorknob when Valentine unexpectedly calls out, “Aurelia, wait!”

Something in his voice stops me.

“There—” In his haste he knocks his glass off the counter, sending it crashing to the floor, where it shatters into a million pieces. “Fuck.” He hisses, looking down at the mess he made.

I feel my fingers twitching with impatience and swing the door open before rushing out. “You can tell me later,” I yell as I run down the corridor to the elevator, leaving the front door open.

I press the button for the twenty-ninth floor over andover again, until the elevator doors close. Turning around, I catch my reflection in the mirror. I’m wearing light green sweatpants with an oversize white shirt, and my red hair is pinned in a messy bun.

I may have missed the funeral, but I play the part of the sad family friend perfectly.

Friend?No. “The culprit of the attack” sounds better.

The elevator doors open and I find myself in a corridor bare of doors. Walking farther in, I brush my fingers over the freshly painted walls. They probably joined the apartments together, creating one.

The Harrows own the building, so they can mix and match the place however they like.

I’ve been walking for what feels like forever when a black door catches my attention.

Finally.

The door is unlocked, and when I walk in, I expect to find Adrian waiting for me.

Instead all I see is a room covered in plastic sheets, buckets of maroon paint waiting to be dipped with a paintbrush.

Why does Adrian want to talk to me here?

The sound of my weight crushing the plastic sheet under my feet fills the silent room as I venture farther in.

“Adrian?” I call out. “For someone who urgently needs to talk to me, you’re making this quite the mystery.”

My foot knocks against a paint roller on the floor, nearly making me stumble.

“Shit,” I whisper undermy breath.

Thud.

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