No. I shoved the image away.
On the ground, Courtney’s hands started shaking so bad she could barely hold them in place. She reached for her purse, but before she could get there, Eric snatched the bag, and she gave a cry of protest.
No one moved to stop him.
He yanked open her purse, rummaged, and pulled out a sleek orange cylinder with Chinese letters.
“You’re still taking the pills?” Coop shook his head. “Goddamn, Courtney.” He looked dazed, as if he couldn’t believe the turn the night had taken.
“Lucky for us,” Eric said, turning the bottle to look at it. “Now we have evidence.”
Mint sat down at his wife’s side and gave Eric an evil look. “She doesn’t say another word. We’re getting a lawyer.”
Courtney burst into tears. “I don’t care about a lawyer,” she cried. “Please, just give them back. Please.”
A memory of my father, begging: Please, Jessica. Please, sweetheart, just to take the edge off. You don’t understand how much it hurts.
I grabbed the pills from Eric’s hand, taking him by surprise, and twisted the lid off.
“What are you doing?” Caro asked.
“She’s addicted.” I dumped the pills in my hand, leaving one in the bottom of the bottle. “You can still have your evidence. You don’t need all of them.”
I handed the bottle back to Eric, who took it with a raised brow. Then I crouched by Courtney. She looked at me with cautious hope, and I realized, with a sinking feeling, that we’d been bad to her, too. Not the same kind of bad she’d been to us, but we’d known about her problem, in the back of our minds, and done nothing. Brushed it off all four years of college. Worse—in some ways, we’d even celebrated it. Courtney, the most perfect girl in school, had a humiliating vice. A fatal flaw. We’d all sighed in relief.
I pressed the pills into her hand and closed her blood-red fingernails around them. She nodded, embarrassed but grateful. I stood, catching Coop’s eye. He gave me a puzzled look.
“You all need to sign an NDA,” Mint said, wrapping a protective arm around Courtney’s shoulders.
“Are you kidding me?” Caro screeched.
“Not about her drugging Heather,” Mint said hurriedly. “Just about the diet pills. She’s a fitness influencer. It would ruin her career.”
Coop shook his head. “She’s lying on the ground shaking, dude. Her career is the least of her worries.”
“For the record”—twisted the pill bottle in his hand, watching it catch the lamplight—“I wasn’t staring at your breasts in college.” His gaze moved from the bottle to Courtney’s face. “I was staring at your ribs. You were a walking skeleton, and I couldn’t believe no one said anything. Not even Heather. She used to brush it off when I asked.” He pocketed the bottle. “I always had a feeling the drug in Heather’s system was yours.”
Something about Courtney’s story was still bugging me. I turned to her. “After Heather got blackout at Phi Delt, and you asked Frankie to take her home, what did you tell him?”
Courtney blinked, rubbing mascara-streaked cheeks. “I don’t know,” she said shakily. “I guess I told him Jack had broken up with her. And she was drowning her sorrows, planning her revenge.”
Her voice became firmer, surer. “I definitely did. I told Frankie that Jack had confessed some terrible secret, and Heather was planning to tell Jack’s parents at Parents’ Weekend to get back at him, ruin his life. I remember I told Frankie specifically because I thought it was messed up of Heather, and I was hoping he’d talk her out of it. She was more likely to listen to him than me, anyway.” Courtney laughed, a small, bitter sound. “He was one of you East House Seven, after all.”
“Frankie didn’t tell us that part.” Coop shot me a worried look.
Caro frowned. “Why wouldn’t he mention Heather was planning to tell Jack’s parents? That’s huge.”
“You guys,” I said, “Frankie’s parents always came for Parents’ Weekend. His dad practically lived for it. If Heather was going to spill the beans, make some spectacle, there’s a strong chance Frankie’s parents would have found out, too.”
“But Heather didn’t know Frankie was the guy Jack was cheating with,” Eric pointed out.
“Maybe she did.” Mint ran a tired hand over his face, mussing his golden hair. “Heather asked Courtney to make sure she didn’t get drunk and talk to Frankie. Maybe that’s why.”