Page 65 of Good Girls Lie

Asolo’s shoulders drop, the stress and tiredness showing plainly on her pretty features. “Because the dean requested it. She knows about the tap tonight—no, don’t deny it, why else do you two stink of alcohol? I suppose she was concerned that Camille was a part of the tap. Becca?”

Becca is still slouching in her chair but answers immediately, and honestly. “No, ma’am. She wasn’t. We don’t normally tap sophomores—Ash is an exception.”

“Ash?”

“Camille wasn’t there. I swear it.”

Asolo waits a beat. Both of us say, “On my honor,” and she blows out a breath.

“Okay. You two stay here. Don’t leave until either the dean or I come to get you.”

She bustles out the door, leaving us staring after her.

“What the hell is going on?” Becca asks, curling deeper in the chair. “How did Camille get up to the bell tower? It’s always locked. I should know, we’ve tried to get up there enough times. Westhaven keeps the key under lock and key. Ha!”

I feel sick. Camille, dead? It doesn’t feel possible. She was so excited, so happy, and a few hours later, broken at the base of Main like a doll thrown from a height.

“I’m sorry I accused you, Swallow. That was wrong of me.”

“Becca, what you said to me the first day, about a roommate dying...”

“I was just trying to rattle you, Swallow. I had no idea she’d be dumb enough to go through with it.”

“She had an invitation to the attics tonight. Remember?”

“Yes. I remember. Like I told you this morning, it wasn’t me. I don’t know who sent the summons. We aren’t the only society who tapped tonight. Though no one sends a summons to do a tap. We try to keep who we bring in quiet. Didn’t you see her tonight?”

“She was in the room after dinner, yes. The last time I saw her was when she left at ten for the summons. She was so excited.”

I run a hand over my arm.

Becca is looking at me curiously. “Does it itch badly?”

“Yes. You’re a right cunt, you know that? The Benadryl is only sort of working.”

“It will be worse tomorrow,” Becca predicts, going to the window. “There’s a lot of activity out there.”

“I know. I couldn’t see anything, just the lights off the fire truck.”

“She must have gone off the back of Main, or else we’d see everything below. Was she bummed about something?”

“No. She was happy, excited. I mean, sometimes she cries at night, but—”

“Cries about what?”

“I don’t know.”

“You didn’t think to ask?”

“I asked. She told me she was fine. I can’t exactly force it out of her.”

Heavy steps pass by us, and then above. It feels like the ceiling will collapse under them. I move out of the way, just in case.

“They’re up there looking,” Becca whispers.

“Looking for what?”

“I don’t know. A note? I can’t believe Asolo locked us up here.”