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“What am I missing?” I ask.

“One of the Sinners was out for a week, and he came back a changed man,” Manson says. “A quiet one, if you get what I’m saying.”

My stomach turns, and I set down the tofu rice I was eating. “How quiet?”

“No one’s heard him say a word,” Manson says.

We all sit in silence for a long minute. I thought the tongue was a warning for me to keep my mouth shut, and maybe it was. But it was a punishment for someone else too.

At last, Annabel Lee speaks. “What was the picture?”

“The picture?”

“You said there was a picture on your door.”

“It was a picture of me and Angel,” I admit. “I was thinking the Sinners might be behind the messages, but if it was one of their tongues…”

“Annie could find out for us,” Manson says, wiggling his brows at Annabel Lee. “Maybe give him a reason to use his tongue.”

“Hard pass,” she says. “Been there, done that, never going back again.”

“You dated a Sinner?” I ask, unable to keep the shock from my voice.

She rolls her eyes. “Dated? No. Was morbidly curious, so I worked my way in so that I could get an invite to their freaking amazing, creepy gothic house and see what the hype was about? Hell yeah, I did.”

“Does your family know about this?”

She pops a cube of tofu into her mouth. “Does it look like I care what my family thinks?”

“I don’t know.”

“Besides, if anyone has an in with the Sinners, it’s Manny here,” she says, her foot moving under the blanket to nudge Manson’s hip. “Why don’t you inspect his tongue?”

“I might just do that,” he says lightly.

I swallow hard. “What’s your connection with them?”

“I don’t have one,” he says. “Well, I mean, I’m on the hockey team with them.”

“The tonsil hockey team,” Annabel Lee teases.

“Hey, we all know straight guys aren’t straight,” Manson says. “If they want to use me to figure that out, who I am to say no? I’m doing a public service, if you think about it.”

She rolls her eyes. “Such a good Samaritan.”

“Wait, you’re gay?” I ask, my head spinning. “I thought you were her boyfriend.”

They both roll with laughter, falling back on the pillows and howling. That gives me time to process, to put together what I’ve already seen with the new information. At last, Manson sits up, wiping tears from his eyes.

“Babe, I’m gay as the day is long,” he says. “Is that a problem?”

“No,” I say honestly. “I just didn’t know.”

“How did you not know?” Annabel Lee asks, still choking with laughter.

“I don’t know,” I say, tugging at the cross on my necklace. “I just thought you were both dramatic. How does that work at a Catholic school?”

“Honey, it works the same everywhere,” Manson says. “People are just more open with their ignorance here.”