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In My Dreams I Hold a Knife(112)

Author:Ashley Winstead

“Before you ask me, yes, Jack and I have files on you all,” Eric continued. He rubbed a hand over his eyes. “And it’s not the nicest stuff.”

Frankie, Coop, and Caro shifted almost imperceptibly away from him.

“Are you planning to delete those files?” Coop asked.

Eric shrugged at Jack. “His decision. He’s the one who supplied most of the real damning stuff. You know, the little tidbits about what made you all tick, what your vices were, who you were jealous of. Helped me put the pieces together.”

Quid pro quo, I guess. For ten years we’d blamed Jack and ignored Eric. In return, they’d combed through our faults and orchestrated a plan to extract our confessions.

Jack rested a hand on Eric’s shoulder. “We’ll delete the files. This is a cease-fire. Nobody wants to see Eric in prison, or any of your secrets leaked.”

Our secrets. I looked at my friends. For all our closeness, I’d still missed so much. How well had I ever really known them?

“I swear to let Jessica take all the blame for Mint’s death,” Caro said curtly. “Can I go now?”

“I swear, too.” Coop’s eyes slid toward Caro, but she kept her gaze carefully averted.

“I won’t say a word,” Frankie promised.

“And I vow to take it to my grave,” Jack said.

They all looked at me, waiting. “It was me,” I whispered. Saying the words was intoxicating. So close to a real confession.

Eric nodded, his mouth set in a grim line. “Thank you.”

Caro straightened. “I’m done. From here on out, I want nothing to do with the East House Seven. I never want to see any of you insane, terrible people for the rest of my life.” She turned her glare to Coop. “Any of you.”

She moved to leave, then twisted back to look at me. Her dark eyes burned holes in my face. I became acutely aware that I was an accused criminal, chained to a hospital bed. “You want to know the saddest part?” Her voice wasn’t angry anymore. It was speculative. “Even now, to this day, I think you were the love of my life. You were always talking about your dreams, back in college. Harvard this and DC that. Well, you want to know what my dream was? You. A real best friend.”

My eyes burned. Caro’s voice softened. “I would have done anything for you.”

Before I could say a single word of apology, Caro spun and stalked out of the room, leaving all of us staring at her back.

I met Coop’s eyes for a second. He drew a sharp breath. “I have to go, too,” he said. “Davis will let you know when the police officially clear you.”

“Coop, wait—” I sat up, struggling against the restraints, but he ignored me, clutching his hair and following Caro out of the room.

I sat, stunned. I’d risked it and lost them both.

Jack cleared his throat. “Despite what Caro thinks, you should know they think you’re a hero.”

“What? Who?”

He smiled. “Everyone. The girl who saved herself and avenged her friend’s killer.”

“I thought I was the ‘Femme Fatale of Blackwell Tower.’”

Frankie snorted.

“After the Journal published the real story,” Jack said, “there was immediate outcry. Some stranger set up a GoFundMe account to raise your bail in case you needed it. Reached the goal in less than twenty-four hours.”

“Why would anyone do that?”

He looked at me incredulously. “Because you were almost killed by your ex-boyfriend. The same man who killed one of your best friends. See yourself through their eyes. You did the only thing you could to save your life. You’re the victim and the hero. No one wants to see you behind bars.”

See yourself through their eyes. It was all I’d ever wanted. To see who I was, reflected back at me. Jessica the victim, Jessica the hero. Exceptional Jessica. But everyone was wrong. Now I knew that couldn’t be further from the truth.

Eric scrubbed his hands over his face and took a deep breath. “My parents said to thank you for getting justice for Heather.”

The wrongness of it was searing. If Heather’s parents only knew the truth.

“Will you ever tell them you’re the one who pushed Mint?”

He turned away. “Maybe. I don’t know. Two years ago, they told me to stop investigating her death because it was ruining my life. They were ready to accept we’d never know the truth, but I wasn’t. It caused a divide.” He sighed. “I thought I’d want the vindication, but now, I’m just tired. It feels like I haven’t slept for years.” He cleared his throat. “I have to pick them up from the airport. They wanted to be here in person during the Mint investigation. They sounded so…young, on the phone. When I told them the news. Like ten years just fell away. Maybe I should let them have that and not complicate it.”