Page 7 of Web of Lies
“I will. Even if the kids string me upside down in the janitor’s closet,” I say with a shrug, turning to take in the room again.
“String—string you up? Yeah, I’m not going to even ask about what’s going on inside that brilliant brain of yours for you to say that.” Callie mutters in disgust at my ramblings.
“Kaycee Addison Cole, you swear to me, if you’re in over your head, you call! I’ve been a dutiful sister since you’ve invoked that ridiculous ‘sibling no speak’ rule. My lips are sealed.” She mimics zipping her lips together and I nod.
My heart swells at her dedication. I don’t get along with many people, social awkwardness, and all that. So, it’s wonderful to have allies in my siblings. We grew up together and they somehow understand me and my odd quirks, understanding the way my mind works and why it wanders at the drop of a dime.
“I’ve lost you,” Callie says, snapping her fingers in front of my face.
“Thank you for all your help,” I say, as a genuine smile spreads across my lips. “This wouldn’t be possible without you. You truly are the best older sister in the world.” Callie’s arms fling wide open, and she stares at me with a dopey smile plastered on her face. Moisture collects in the rim of her eyes and a tiny sniffle pinches her nose.
“I’m your only sister, now give me a hug!” She says and my smile drops faster than my heart.
“Can’t we fist bump or something?” I ask pathetically, holding out my fists. “You know I don’t hug.” I mutter as she steps into my personal space, bumping her fists against mine.
She frowns, looking over my shoulder. “I’ll let you off the hook this time, because I’m the best sister ever, but with the way mom is boohooing, I don’t think you’ll get so lucky.” She says with a shrug, as my mom wraps her arms around me from behind.
A sigh escapes my nose. My body tries not to squirm in her squeezing arms, because hugs really aren’t my thing. It’s not even the germs everyone has crawling over every inch of their bodies, I hate them. From the depth of my soul, I loathe the feeling of someone’s body against mine. Even the simple touch of the hand. I can’t do it for long without my skin wanting to burst into flames and make me explode. But for my mom, she doesn’t understand my personal space issues. Hell— I don’t understand them myself. It’s just me.
“It feels like yesterday I took you home from the hospital and now you’re leaving me with an empty nest. What will I do with myself now?” Her tears soak my shoulder as she sniffles on me.
She really loves us and wants us around. A part of me feels guilty leaving the house empty for the sake of revenge. If I was a nice child, I would have stayed home and endured another year at my old private school, Latham.
“Make Callie give you grandchildren,” I say sarcastically, trying to understand my mom’s dependence on me.
Callie snorts from the corner, folding her arms across her chest. “Uh, yeah, me and Dex still have another year at Milligan and then we can think about that. Beg Bodhi so mom can have a Kaycee replacement child,” she says with a laugh.
My mom stiffens behind me and raises her head, wiping away the tears flowing down her cheeks. “I will miss you, Kace, but this is for your future. I love you. Here are your car keys and your credit card. It’s for the necessities and I mean necessities, Kaycee.” She kisses my cheek one last time and slaps Callie on the shoulder.
“Have fun unpacking, call me tonight! And enjoy your senior year. I better not hear of any reports of your partying ways!” I roll my eyes at the thought of going to parties. Way too many people go to parties here, but if it’s what I have to endure. Then so be it. It’s all for Magnolia.
“I don’t party,” I say with seriousness, and my mom shrugs, walking out the door.
“Maybe you should,” Callie retorts with a one-shoulder shrug and pauses at the open door. “What would Magnolia do?” She whispers with a small hand wave before closing the door.
This is it. Last Christmas my planning took center stage with long, tiresome nights, searching for dirt on my pawns. And now? Now is the time to execute my plan with precision and grace without bringing suspicion down on myself. Yup. That’s all. Easy peasy, right? Well, in theory, anyway.
My stomach grumbles, reminding me I haven’t slowed down since my family left. Plugging one last cord into the back of my monitor, I smile, breathing a sigh of relief. One step is done, a few more to go. I step back, looking at my handy work. Two computer monitors sit side-by-side on my computer desk—one for Angel Warrior and the other for work. Now, time to take advantage of this school’s chefs. Perks of the elite, I guess.
Walking through campus gives me a mixed bag of emotions. It’s surreal to think I’m finally here. I’ve strategically planned this entire operation for the last eight months. I’ve studied every building on campus, mapping out exits and hiding spots. It’s exhilarating yet unsettling. Magnolia walked these stone paths for four months, fighting for her life. And look where that got her—six feet under. Now here I am, walking in her shoes, looking for answers.
The sleek brick dining hall comes into view after a few minutes of walking. Large windows make up every wall, with glass doors on every side. A sleek, modernVan Buren Dining Hallsign hangs from the top of the building, situated in the middle of campus. Older brick buildings surround the dining hall: classrooms, offices, and a gym.
My stomach growls again, begging me to feed it—fine, fine, I’ll get to you in a minute.I can’t wait to stuff my face with the sushi they offer, but first, though, there’s something I have to see. The one thing I promised myself I’d venture to once I had unpacked. Even if it means ripping open my chest filled with grief for the world to see.
I swallow down the rogue emotions bubbling to the surface. To get through the next five minutes, I have to pretend I’m okay. What would my classmates think of the new girl on campus crying over their old dead classmate’s dedication? If someone on campus murdered her, I don’t want them to see me bawling my eyes out. It’d draw too much attention to me. I need to be a wallflower, collecting information, not a damn beacon for trouble. Deep breaths. If I repeat those words in my head enough, maybe it’ll help to calm my nerves.
I’ve always wondered who started the whole ‘plant a tree’ after someone passes away tradition. Sure, when a person dies, it’s nice to honor their memory with a living being, letting it grow towards the heavens and bask in the sun. But a tree? Couldn’t they have decided on a plaque? Or a sign, maybe? Anything but a tr— I pump the brakes on my walking and mentally slap myself at the sight of the two people standing before my destination. Of course, they’d be at Magnolia’s memorial tree on the first day of its unveiling. How stupid of me not to consider them coming to cut the red ribbon. I lick my lips and turn around.
Avoid. Avoid. Avoid. Run. Run. Run.
There’s no way I can let them see me here—at this school. I put my head down, letting my blonde hair curtain my face and cut through the grass towards my initial destination—food. I force my tiny legs to work harder and faster than they’re accustomed to.Yeah, yeah, I know! We aren’t made for running. We are made for sitting at the computer. But go faster!Put the pedal to the metal for once in your life. I huff a breath, pumping my arms. My stomach cramps like I’ve swallowed lead, and it’s hardening.
You know, I’ve always hated athletics, especially physical education. If there’s one class I could push to the depths of Hell and watch it burn, it’s PE. Who invented that, anyway? Yeah, let’s make a bunch of kids who barely tolerate one another run around a track once a week for a mile. I. Hate. Running. It hurts. And my wobbly, non-bending legs don’t help. Talk about getting made fun of.Bend your knees, Kaycee!That’s not how we run, Kaycee!Pfft. Screw running. I’d rather sprint my fingers across my keyboard, hacking into the Whitehouse with no security hiding my IP address, than run. Ever.
“Kaycee?” A woman’s worried voice bounces off the buildings, hitting me like an arrow to the heart.
My body locks up, freezing in place. Looking up, I stare ahead, refusing to turn towards her. I take a step forward. Because yeah, I can totally ignore her without consequence, right? Wrong. So, totally friggin’ wrong.
