Page 4 of Pretty Secrets

All in the name of my sister. If I’m wrong about them, I’m fucked. But I don’t think I am.

I reach into the back of my Wrangler and pull out my bag. When my parents discussed emptying out her room here, I told them not to bother—my plan had already been forming. They didn’t take the news as well as I’d hoped. They’d always wanted me to attend Carnegie with Dee, but apparently after one child dies, they don’t want the next to follow in the other’s footsteps.

The wheels of my luggage roll noisily over the cobblestones. I’ve been here a hundred times before but I still can’t resist peeking at the building that I’ll be all too acquainted with this year. It’s far more sinister in the dark, the surrounding lights accentuating the horror movie feel.

Like I’m being drawn, I circle around the side of my new digs and peer across campus toward the stone building that’s so far away it’s practically in the forest. The Knights of Arcadia headquarters. In the distance, I spy a tall figure striding that way. I’m a day late getting to campus, so the telltale signs of move in day are long gone. There’s no game of touch football or frisbee in the quad like there would’ve been at my last school. Everyone must be inside with the nice air conditioning and posh surroundings with the odd heatwave we’re having. Everyone except this guy.

The figure moves with authority, his long strides eating up the walkway. I pull my bag up next to the exterior wall and crouch, spying. From this far away, I can’t tell if it’s a student Knight or an Elder. They’re all the same to me, anyway. Suspects. In my bag, I have a list of Knights that I stole from my father’s home office. I’ll be crossing off names one by one until I get to the bottom of how the hell my sister died at their Devil’s Night festivities. Every Knight was in attendance, which makes them all potential culprits. Except for my father, of course.

“What are we doing?” a voice whispers.

I jump to my feet, spinning. The intruder takes a quick step backward, avoiding my flailing limbs. It takes a minute for his face to come into view, but I spy his cheeky smile first. Recognition jolts through me. “Oliver?” I gasp.

His perfect grin spreads, and he tilts his head to the side, brown hair falling over his forehead, as he inspects me from head to toe and then back up again. “You weren’t going to follow that guy, were you? As your best friend, I’d advise against that.”

I fling myself at him, and he easily catches me. A sob lodges in my throat, and I attempt to breathe through it. “What are you doing here, asshole? I can tell you’ve been in England too long. You’re all British-y.”

He chuckles, his chest rumbling against mine. “That’s my Eden, making up nonsensical words.”

I pull away. “British-y is totally a word. It means your accent is stronger than it usually is.”

He sets me on my feet, tugging the ends of my hair playfully. His grin flatlines shortly after. “How are you, Edie?”

My chest is seconds away from exploding, but I say, “fine,” anyway.

He peers from me to the building I’d been scoping out. “Please tell me you weren’t going all Nancy Drew already. Your first night here. With no backup.”

I shrug, impatience swirling inside me. Even now I want to whirl back around to see if the figure is still there. Oliver showing up could have caught his attention. “I was just…looking.” He frowns, a face that tells me he doesn’t believe a word I’m saying. After grabbing my luggage, he turns toward the main door, leading the way to my new residence hall. Hurrying to catch up with him, I call out, “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“It’s called a surprise,” he deadpans.

I roll my eyes. He knows I despise surprises, but that doesn’t keep him from throwing them at me every chance he gets.

We turn the corner of the building, and I stop in my tracks. In front of us is a line of Mini Coopers with men in black suits in various stages of unloading boxes from them. “What the….”

He peers over his shoulder. “You didn’t really think I was going to let you search for your sister’s killer alone, did you?” My mouth unhinges, but Oliver continues as if he didn’t just drop a bomb on me. His gaze darts toward one of his servants with silver hair. “Be careful with that,” he orders. “My grandmother’s tea set is in that box.”

“Actually, sir,” another voice eloquently starts, “I have the tea set.”

Oliver’s sharp reply pulls me out of my surprise. He doesn’t care if they’re holding a gift from his grandmother—the queen—or not. He wants them all to be careful or he’ll shove his foot up their arses,the insipid fools.

Sounds like Oliver.

Despite the presence of his servants, Oliver keeps my bag. When he gets to the door, he glances back and frowns when I’m not right behind him. After finally spotting me still standing by the corner of the building, he relaxes a little. “Well, come on. We have to get settled in.”

I blink, hardly believing the scene surrounding me. “Oliver, are you going to Carnegie, too?”

His eyes flash with a fondness I often see when he and I are together. “They’ve been hounding me forever, so I figured it’s time to shut their arses up.”

I hold back a squeal and race to his side. Reaching up on my tiptoes, I give him a quick peck on the cheek. Oliver and I have been through everything together, and even though he was far away physically when Dee died, he was with me in every way that mattered. In fact, he’s the only person in my life who I trust to know the full extent of why I’m here.

His cheeks bloom red, but he immediately trudges forward. “This way,” he demands over his shoulder at the bevy of servants holding boxes and garment bags.

I watch him walk in, confusion spreading through me. “Oliver, this is a female dorm.”

He laughs, the sound pure amusement. “It’s cute that you think I care.”

A servant sneaks in first and pushes the door wider. In front of us, a line of girls await. They’re all dressed to the nines with their makeup and hair impeccable despite the late hour. I look like the poor stepchild in comparison. My shorts have trendy rips in them, and my tank top shows off my shoulders, which is a major faux pas in certain social situations. I just didn’t know unpacking at Carnegie was one of them.

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