Page 109 of One Killer Night

“Never mind, don’t remind me. There’s no joke that can make it funny.”

A smile begins to bloom on her face before she glances at me. “You know what will be funny? Watching you look for a guy in a hockey mask tonight at our welcome bonfire.”

My face scrunches up as droplets of rain begin to softly hit the window.

“Eww ... who’s the guy putting this on? It’s so creepy. Maybe we should be more scared of him than my ex.”

Evie’s mouth pops open as the swishing of her windshield wipers starts up.

“Look at you, turning trauma lemons into funny lemonade. Your life is making you a full-fledged comedian.” I roll my eyes and cross my arms, but she shrugs. “I say lean in. This can be a new era for you.”

“Shut up,” I chuckle. I can’t help it. It took her a minute, but she found the funny.

Honestly, I’m glad she did. It’s a nice reprieve from what I’ve been feeling. Still, I have no doubt I’ll go right back to being numb again in no time. I reach out to adjust the heater because the car’s gotten colder.

I change the subject. “Okay, so there’s a bonfire ... What else is happening?”

“Well, from what I’ve been told, because everything’s really hush-hush ... First, we’re driving to a special location for pickup ...”

“Pickup?” I interrupt, sitting up straighter. “Why is this starting to feel like an actual horror movie?”

She nods, but the smile on her face is disconcerting, to say the least.

“No ... like, this guy, the one who hired us, really wants everything to feel immersive. He describes himself as an ‘experience purist.’”

“What? What the hell is that ...”

“I don’t know. Rich people are weird. He wants everything to feel as real as possible, so that means we need to feel it too. Get this, we’re taking a school bus up to the camp, just like the first part of the team did who left Monday.”

I blink a hundred miles an hour as she continues. Somewhere between finding out we’re turning in our phones for privacy and that we’re sleeping in cabins, I break.

“Oh my god. Why didn’t you tell me any of this before? Please say ‘Psych!’ right now.”

She winces as she holds the wheel tighter. “I didn’t really think about it. I found out months ago, and I mean, there were other pressing matters ...”

I let out a breath.Fuck.My brows raise as another empty chuckle pops out. “Well, I guess you’re right about one thing ... I am, in fact, not thinking about my real life. So I suppose a win’s a win.”

She laughs quietly. “See, funnier by the minute.”

I turn my face back to the window, my own reflection staring back at me for a second. “Yeah, maybe after this weekend, I’ll be able to take my one-woman show on the road.”

The soft sounds of music begin to play as raindrops dance along the window in slashes, gathering and rolling over each other. And because I can’t stop myself, I reach into my pocket, pull out my phone, and look at the messages. There’s nothing.

I’ve checked his name more times than I can count since Monday.

A part of me keeps telling myself to be grateful he’s disappeared because I shouldn’t have any contact with someone who might be dangerous and is definitely a liar.

But another part of me—a voice that’s just a little bit louder—wants to see Noah. Because I hate that I didn’t let him explain. I’ll never really know why he lied, or how deep it all runs. Then again, that’s really the sickest part—the desire for an explanation isn’t really me wanting closure. It’s my heart wishing I could forgive him and run right back into his arms.

God, it would only take the flimsiest of excuses, and that makes me hate myself.

I close my eyes, trying to block out my thoughts and listen to the music. But between the setting sun and the driving rain, my body grows heavy, and my eyes refuse to open as I fall asleep.

“Goldie ...” my sister whispers, and I feel the car slowing.

She rubs my arm, and I take a deep breath, denying my eyes the instinct to flutter open. Shit, I must’ve fallen asleep.

I yawn and say, “Are we there yet?” but I’m met with her gasping and the sound of brakes screeching as my body’s thrown forward.