Page 44

CHAPTER 44

ARIELLA

"L et's go, Ariella," Zaiden shouted up the stairs. It was six in the morning, and I didn't want to be up this early, but he had an early practice and refused to leave me home alone.

"I'm coming," I yelled back. "It's freezing outside. I need a jacket." I hadn't packed any of my winter clothes because I wasn't expecting it to get so cold so fast. Pushing open the door to my mom's room, I rushed to her closet.

Even though my mom and Zaiden's dad were married, they had separate rooms, though I assumed they shared a bed when they were both home. I slid open the closet door and walked into the massive walk-in closet that used to be Zaiden's mom's.

I remembered being a little girl standing in this closet with Kacie, mesmerized by all the sparkly clothes, shoes, and handbags, but now it was my mom's, and I hated that.

I ran my fingertips over the clothes, past silk blouses and designer dresses that whispered of a life I barely recognized. The closet smelled of her expensive perfume, Chanel, not the drugstore brand she used to wear. Each garment testified to how far she'd traveled from who she once was.

In the back corner, almost hidden in the shadows, my gaze caught on something grey and ordinary, a lone hoodie, exiled to the highest shelf. Of course. Casual comfort didn't fit her carefully curated image anymore. This single forgotten item was perhaps the last remnant of the mother I'd once known.

The sleeve was just out of reach, so I jumped up, grabbed it, and ripped it off, ducking as something flew off the shelf.

"Shit." I turned to see if whatever fell was broken.

A medium-sized black box was open on the floor.

Kneeling, I set the hoodie on the floor and froze, my breath catching sharply in my throat. The room tilted beneath me as recognition slammed into me.

It wasn't my mom's hoodie.

It was Kacie's.

I knew it instantly—our high school dance team logo in the center with her name embroidered in red. My stomach lurched violently.

"How fucking sick?" Cold sweat broke out across my forehead as revulsion crawled up my spine. She stole a hoodie from Kacie's room. From a dead girl's room.

I grabbed the black box and searched for the stuff that had fallen out of it and sucked in a sharp breath when just out of my reach was Kacie's phone.

"Oh my God." My voice came out as a whisper. I stared at the phone, my fingers hovering inches away, afraid to touch it as if it might disintegrate—or worse, explode with secrets. "Why did you have this, Mom?"

The walls of the closet seemed to press in. Each breath became shallower than the last until black spots danced at the edges of my vision.

"Zaiden," I called out, my voice breaking. Then louder: "ZAIDEN!"

I scrambled to my feet, legs unsteady, and lurched toward the door. It swung open as I reached it, and I collided with the solid wall of his chest.

"What's wrong?" I pointed to Kacie's phone on the floor. "Is that…"

"Kacie's phone," I nodded, "yes."

"Where did you find that?"

I pointed to the spot. "I was looking for a hoodie, and when I pulled it down, it was Kacie's, and," my finger pointed at the black box on the floor, "that fell, and her phone fell out of it."

Zaiden stood silently, staring at the phone for a long moment. "Why would your mom have Kacie's phone?"

"Could your dad have…"

"No," he cut me off. "My parents said it was never recovered. They both said they never got her phone back." He shook his head. But why would your mom want to hurt Kacie?"

"Maybe she found out about my mom and your dad? Maybe she was going to tell your mom."

"How would she have known Kacie had my mom's car?"

"Oh my God." The words escaped as barely a breath.

The pieces clicked into place, a terrible puzzle completing itself in my mind. The blood drained from my face as the truth crystallized with horrifying clarity.

"She didn't mean to kill Kacie." I met Zaiden's eyes, seeing my own horror reflected. "She was trying to kill your mom."

My chest constricted as if caught in a vise, each heartbeat a painful thud against my ribs. Acid surged up my throat while the room tilted dangerously.

Zaiden grabbed my shoulders, steadying me. His face had gone white, but his voice remained controlled. "Okay, listen carefully," he said, each word measured and precise. "Put everything back exactly how you found it. We'll take the phone and charge it to see what's on it, but first, we need to get out of here until we figure out if your mom was involved somehow."

"Where do we go?"

His eyes flicked around the closet like he was searching for the answer. "You can't stay at the frat house; it won't be safe for you, but we can crash at my mom's house. She's out of town until next week. Once you're done packing a bag, meet me at my truck."

"So you're not angry with me?" The question escaped before I could stop it, fragile and uncertain.

He stopped mid-stride. His eyes found mine, searching, questioning. "Why would I be mad at you?"

The gentleness in his voice nearly broke me. I wanted to believe him, needed to, but doubt coiled inside me.

"My mom—" How could he not see it? The blood might as well be on my hands, too.

He rushed forward, invading my personal space, his hands gripping my face. "We don't know why your mom has Kacie's phone. There could be a reason." I couldn't think of one reason for her to have it. None.

"And even if your mom was somehow involved, that's not your fault, but—" He paused, dragging in a ragged breath. His eyes hardened. "If she was involved, there will only be two options for her."

He didn't need to say them out loud.

Jail.

Or death.

The truth hung between us, cold and unforgiving as steel.

"Get everything put back and pack a bag. I need to let Sterling know I'm going to be late. Don't tell anyone where we are staying. Not even Mila and Journey."

I nodded, and he reached down, swiping Kacie's phone off the ground before disappearing.

I ran a hand down my face. My mom was a lot of things, but a killer?

She wasn't the same person I knew anymore, and I couldn't put anything past her.