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Brittany sighed. “Never mind.” She turned on her heel and stalked toward the showers, tossing over her shoulder, “Keep in mind, The Hunt isn’t only a game. It’s a tradition to weed out Crowsfell’s weak and make examples out of the rest to see if we’ve got what it takes to win.”

The silence that followed her parting statement wasn’t loud, but it was deafening. Roxxi finally looked down at the picture in my hand, and her eyes widened.

“Holy shit, Sanj,” she whispered.

If she was making the same observation I had, then I was right about where this picture was taken. I’d never wanted to be more wrong. It was all coming together, though. The door had been unlocked that night. I’d gone straight to the shower, left my room open, and unguarded. Someone could have been there all along, and I wouldn’t have known. It also explained why the rock came through that specific window and not another. At some point, whoever did this had to of left, but before that, they would’ve been hiding somewhere. How long were they in our house without us knowing? My stomach lurched. I felt like I was going to be sick. That was creepy on so many fucking levels.

“It’ll be okay, Sanj,” Layla murmured, her voice soft and cautious, a full 180 from her attitude moments ago.

She had no clue I was on the verge of a mini breakdown. I expelled a deep breath, slowly, trying to ground myself, but my hands were still shaking. My eyes dropped to the Polaroid again; the thick black ink slashed through my face now felt like a warning. Or a promise.

“How many days until the party?”

“Not enough,” Roxxi replied, her voice dry as sandpaper. She shook her own photo. “But this? This is nothing, Sanj.” Her tone lowered, and she leaned closer, speaking solely to me. “I know it’s hard. I would be losing my shit right about now, but you’re okay. Whoever did this is long gone, and they won’t ever get inside our home again.”

A locker slammed, and Sydney tossed a towel into her cheer bag. “This sucks.”

“The Hunt can’t last forever,” Roxxi stated softly to reassure the remaining girls. “It’s over after the party.”

The Soirée. A final night meant to bring the closure of the game with enough ceremony to pacify the faculty and whoever else played behind the curtains.

“Yeah, it can’t last forever,” I repeated for my own benefit. But as the words left my mouth, I didn’t fully believe them.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

SANJANA

Every Wednesday, everyone headed to the Nest. It was our own little Crowsfell tradition. Far less twisted than The Hunt, and one of the only things that still felt halfway normal after the past few days. We’d just pulled out of the campus parking lot, the field lights glowing behind us like a stage. I drove for once. Roxxi rode shotgun. Layla was in the backseat, arms folded, chin tilted toward the window. I didn’t remember inviting her to ride with us, but my mind had been too distracted to notice much, and I wasn’t petty enough to tell her she couldn’t come.

She hadn’t said a word since we left the locker room. Beside me, Roxxi was unnervingly quiet too. Ari, Cloe, and Olivia were already on their way. Brit had gone with her boyfriend, Ethan, one of the wide receivers, and a friend of Ryder and Cade. Ashton had his own car full, saving me from a confrontation I wasn’t ready for. So that left just the three of us. Rolling out together in a car thick with unsaid things.

Halfway there, Layla finally spoke. Her voice was tentative, small. “I know I’ve been acting weird lately. I’ve always kind of felt like the outsider in the group, and it’s starting to get to me.”

Roxxi didn’t lift her head to acknowledge her.

Layla went on. “You guys have been close for years. A family with history. I don’t have that or the money. It’s not an excuse, but I get jealous.”

I felt her gaze pressing into the back of our heads, searching for understanding.

“I wasn’t trying to start anything,” she added, softer. “I just didn’t know how to deal with feeling left out.”

Roxxi laughed. “Why does it always come back to that with you?”

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this right now,” I suggested.

“Oh, we’re doing it,” Roxxi quipped. “Layla, how do you have relationships with anyone? I’m genuinely curious how you make it through a single day at Crowsfell.Everyonehas money, even you. I have more, that’s what it boils down to, right?” She turned in her seat to address her head on. “I’m not going to apologize for being born wealthy. I’m not sorry for being a materialistic bitch. I like luxurious shit and spoiling myself and my friends.”

She stopped and took a breath.

“I’m also humble enough to live in an off-campus house with three other girls and love it, eat a biggie bag deal when I’m hungover, and go thrifting because it’s fun.” She paused and, when Layla made no attempt to interrupt, kept going. “You’re the one who keeps acting like there’s a divide. You treat it like we’re different, andyou’rethe one above it all. And you say you’re our friend—Sanj’sfriend—but then you pull petty, underhanded shit because you’re insecure. That’s not friendship, Layla. You don’t get to twist your wrongs into misunderstandings.”

“I don’t try to--.”

“Let me finish, this next part is important. Are you listening?”

I caught Layla’s nod in the rearview.

“Good, because I want you to know that I’m not accepting that gaslighting-ass apology.”

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