Page 115 of The Secrets We Bury

“Yes,” I say. “I haven’t been back to school in weeks. Are they doing okay? Have you seen or talked to them?”

Roquel lifts a finger to her lips, tapping it lightly. “Yeah, they’re still in classes for the most part,” she hedges. “They were all out for a couple of days at the beginning of last week, but they came back and have been pretty normal. Why?”

Normal? After what happened between Lex and me? Did he not tell them what I said? Why haven’t they come or tried to contact me?

“Did they know Morpheus invited you here?” I ask instead. Desperation seems to claw at me, a hungry, needy creature frenzied for any crumb of information or news.

Roquel shrugs. “They might’ve, I don’t know honestly.”

“You don’t know?” I stare at her.

“It’s not like we’re friends, Jules.” Roquel drops her hand from her lips and rocks forward, swinging her legs, clad in long dark washed jeans sans any rips or tears. “They don’t really talk to me when you’re not around.”

“Do you have your phone?” Maybe I can try to use it to call them. God, just hearing one of their voices right now would be… well, it wouldn’t fix anything, but at least I’d know they really were okay and that all of the things Morpheus had threatened hadn’t come to fruition.

Despite the fact that he got what he wanted, I still worry that it wouldn’t be enough and he’d follow through on all that he’d said.

“No, they took my phone when I came in the front door.” Roquel looks at me strangely, her brow puckering. “Why are you acting like this? I thought you’d be happy to be back in a place like this.”

“Happy?” I gape at her. She can’t be serious.

“Uh, yeah?” Her voice is sardonic as she gestures around the lavish room. From the gauzy peach-colored curtains to the luxurious bedspread, her eyes eat up every detail of the room.She pops off the settee and moves around the bed to the open door of the closet.

“This place is amazing!” she calls over her shoulder, disappearing into the other room.

Slowly, I get to my feet, drifting after her. The closet is tall and long, lined with shelves upon shelves of various clothes, shoes, and accessories. Along one wall, there are racks of dresses ranging from daily, summer picnic wear to long, glitter formal gowns.

There are more dresses than there are jeans and t-shirts and it’s actually been a struggle for me to find something to wear every day. Roquel walks the length of the room, her fingers trailing over the various fabrics as she keeps talking.

“Do you even know how much any of this is worth?” she asks. Thousands, I’m sure, if not more. Morpheus doesn’t skimp. None of it means a damn thing to me. They’re shackles. But not to her.

Roquel’s gaze glitters with desire as she pauses, her fingers curling into a long silken gown that’s an olive green. She pulls it off the rack and holds it up to her slender frame.

“Versace?” Her pitch goes higher as she flips to the full-length mirror on the wall between racks to gaze at herself.

“Keep it,” I tell her absently.

She glances over her shoulder at me, smiling. “Really?”

“Yeah, I won’t wear it.” If it were up to me, I wouldn’t wear anything in this room.

I miss sliding into oversized t-shirts that smell like Gio or lying in a too small bed with Nolan’s hot body pressed along my side. I miss riding in Lex’s SUV even when the radio crackled over every song.

Roquel squeals and jumps up and down. “Hey! I have an idea!” She whirls to face me and I blink, startled by her suddenenthusiasm. “Do you think we could get dressed up and go to one of the nightclubs in the city?”

“I don’t know that I’m allowed to leave the house.”

She tosses the dress over one of the pale pink cushioned ottomans in the center of the closet. “You never know unless you ask.” She dives forward, ripping my hands up in hers and squeezing them tightly. “I think if you ask nicely, your uncle would let you go. We could both go. Take a little break, you know? You must be going stir-crazy here.”

As her words penetrate my brain, I wonder if she’s right. Not necessarily about the nightclub and taking a break, but getting out of the house by any means necessary. I’ve been so isolated here and there’s been no contact with the outside world before Roquel. If Morpheus is willing to let her be my friend and come over even if she’s from Silverwood Public, maybe he’d let me go out with her.

Doing something that I wouldn’t have thought twice about before my family lost everything might make Morpheus feel as if I’m returning to my old ways. He knew that me. He’s comfortable with that me. Even if that Juliet is long dead and gone, I can still play the part, can’t I? Isn’t that what I tried to do at dinner the other night? I’d only failed because I let my anger get the best of me.

“Please, Jules.” Roquel whines out her plea, gripping my hands so tightly in hers it makes my fingers ache.

With a wince, I carefully extract them from her grasp. “I can ask,” I concede.

Her smile is radiant. “He’s going to say yes,” she informs me. “Just you wait—I know I’m right about this.”