Page 42 of The Lies We Steal

He was now living in Boston, a part of one of the best residency programs in the United States and would soon be a surgeon according to this newest article.

I couldn’t help but stare at the picture on the front page of a past write-up about family ties, Mr. and Mrs. Caldwell stood proud behind Dorian each with a hand on his shoulder as he sat in a chair in front of them. All the while, Alistairwas shoved to the side, no warmth, no attention, nothing was given to him.

He was an outsider everywhere. Including around his family.

“Hey, are you ready to go?”

I jump, placing my hand on my heart, the quick change of speed making me want to pass out. I’d been so on edge, restless, everything made me flinch.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Lyra smiles softly, her hand still resting on my shoulder.

I quickly gather the research I’d been diving into, organizing it into a neat pile, before nodding.

“Yeah, let’s get back before dark.” I say.

Normally I wouldn’t mind walking through campus at night. But normally I’m not worried about four killer assholes with a grudge against me either.

Together, we make our way out of the library. Instantly I pull my clothing around me tighter to prevent the cool breeze from slicing through.

“I know you don’t want to talk about it, but I think we need to. We need to figure out a plan, who we are gonna tell.” My voice interrupts the void silence of our walk.

To anyone passing by we were just two girls chit chatting about life.

I had wanted to tell someone immediately after reaching safety. I still wanted to tell someone. I felt now would be the perfect time.

The only reason I hadn’t was because Lyra was adamant on how horrible of an idea it was.

She was genuinely so terrified of them even the thought of them finding out we said anything would send her into a breakdown.

“Not this again. I thought we agreed on not talking about it.” She groans.

“No, no. You agreed. I never said that. It’s our responsibility to tell someone. What about that man’s family? Don’t you think they deserve to know?”

It bothered me to think there was someone out there missing. Someone with a family missing them and we’d yet to inform anyone.

“You don’t understand, Briar.” Lyra tells me again as we walk through the grounds towards our dorm. My thin jacket is doing a shit job keeping the chilly wind from my skin. Summer is long gone, and fall has quickly arrived.

“I know they have money, but it doesn’t protect them from everything.” I argue for the hundredth time. “This isn’t some Tarantino flick. People don’t just get away with this kind of stuff if you tell someone.”

“They do if you have the right last name, look,” She breathes, looking around her quickly as if to make sure they aren’t there. “They are the sons of founding families. Things are different in Ponderosa Springs than where you grew up. There is a hierarchy, unspoken rules, and one of those is those boys are untouchable.”

It all sounded so unbelievable. Were they so protected that they could really get away with murder?

“I know all about it. Founding families. Rich bullshit. I know. We can go to authorities outside of Ponderosa Springs. We have options, Lyra. We can’t just let them get away with this. Their legacy doesn’t make them invisible to the law.”

Her face is cold, serious, but I can still see the incline of fear in her eyes. “Yes, it does. They are above all of it. Sure, they each hate their wealth and family for the damage they’ve inflicted, but those last names shield them fromeverything. The fact they let us go in the first place is a gift. You don’t know because you didn’t grow up here, but they will do anything to protect each other. Lie, steal, cheat, kill. We are gum beneath their shoes. If it’s them not going to jail or us living, they will not think twice about choosing each other.”

My Converse pad against the cobblestone as we wind through the campus, other students walking past us. All of them worried about grades or parties, and we somehow drew the short straw. We were concerned about our lives and what we could have possibly done to curse God so wrongfully, that he’d thrown us in the path of The Hollow Boys.

My clutch on Alistair’s ring tightens.

“So what, you really want to keep it to ourselves? Act like it never happened? You think you can do that?” I ask.

“Don’t judge me! You don’t see it but it’s what is best for both of us.” She responds sliding through the door first.

“Lyra, we can’t—”

“Briar! I already know what happens when you snitch on people like them. When you spill secrets about those families that are not your place to speak about.” She slings her arm out,