Page 183 of Craving Venom

I stayed awake. I pushed. And instead of getting the truth, I got used.

Used… and I liked it.

And the worst part is that I did get an answer, not the one I wanted but something else entirely, something that refuses to leave me.

Zane’s a liar. A manipulator. Everything out of his mouth is designed to fuck with people and I know that, but when he spoke of his mother, something was different.

It didn’t feel like manipulation.

It felt genuine.

And if Zane’s mother really was that good, if she didn’t deserve to die the way she did, then what’s the point of this project? I’m not offering anything new or groundbreaking, just another shallow dive into the mind of a man everyone has already decided is a monster.

My gaze wanders, scanning the room for something to latch onto. Students scribble notes, heads bent, the monotonous hum of the professor’s voice drowning in the buzz of my own mind. I blink past it and drag my eyes over the usual faces until they land on Maya’s chair. It’s empty.

Maya never misses this class. Not even when she’s sick. She’s the only one who could ramble about criminal behavior for hours without breaking a sweat. And she definitely wouldn’t skip without saying something.

I pull out my phone and shoot her a quick text.

Where are you?

I shove my phone away, tapping my pen mindlessly against the desk, the sound doing nothing to drown out the unease crawling under my skin.

When class finally ends, I don’t waste another minute. I push through the crowded hallway, ignoring the meaningless chatter.

Lisa’s the first familiar face I spot, tucked into a corner with her nose buried in her phone. Her blonde waves spill over her shoulders, hiding most of her face. I stride straight to her.

“Lisa.”

“Shit. Faith. You scared me.”

I don’t apologize. “Where’s Maya?”

“She—uh, she went home.”

“Why?”

“Something urgent came up.”

That’s bullshit. Maya’s the kind of person who plans things weeks in advance. She doesn’t just pack up and leave without a damn good reason.

“When?” My arms cross. “When did she leave?”

“Last night.”

That doesn’t make sense, because aside from me, she was the only one who even considered a prison visit for this project. And now… she just bailed?

“I’ll text her later,” I mutter, more to myself than Lisa.

“Yeah, she’ll probably get back to you soon.” Lisa offers a quick smile before ducking her head back down.

I nod and turn away.

It’s probably nothing.

The dress looks awful.

I tug at the hem, frowning as I turn from side to side, checking every angle in the mirror. The fabric is too tight across my hips, clinging in all the wrong places, and the neckline is choking me.

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