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The extra layer came off easily in her hand, but it was blank.
Before disappointment could set in, Raisa realized that it had been hiding something else.
A folded-up piece of paper.
One that looked like it had been ripped from Isabel’s journal.
Raisa stared at it like the bomb she knew it could be.
It was one page, handwritten.
Everyone always wants me to start from the beginning.
But where is the beginning?
Raisa read through it without thinking like a linguist. She didn’t pick up on word choice or grammar or narrative voice. Instead, she read it like a note she wasn’t sure she’d been meant to find.
She read it like a true diary, not one that had been written for an audience.
I wanted to make them the same as me.
Broken.
Lana and Larissa aren’t broken.
But wouldn’t it be more fun if they were?
Chapter Thirty
Delaney
Day Seven
“Take your hands off of me,” Delaney told Roan through gritted teeth. She didn’t want to make a scene but she would.
Roan immediately stepped back, holding up his palms. “Whoa. No. Sorry. That was way more threatening than intended.”
Delaney stared at him. “I think it was exactly as threatening as intended.”
His mouth tightened. “Okay, maybe. Can we talk?”
“No,” Delaney said, heading toward the front of the car. He kept pace but on the other side, sliding into the passenger seat before she could get to the locks. “Get out.”
“Drive north,” was all he said.
Again, she stared at him, incredulous. He was acting like he had some kind of power over her even though he wasn’t holding a gun or any kind of weapon. She could simply ignore him.
But then he might draw attention to both of them. That was the exact opposite of what she wanted.
Still, she said, “No. Get out.”
“Delaney,” Roan said. “I know you don’t trust me. But you need to right now. You’re about to go do something stupid, aren’t you?”
Delaney didn’t answer. She didn’t say anything, actually.
He visibly swallowed. “Babe, it’s a trap. They’re trying to draw you out.”
“Who is?” she snapped.