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“I feel sorry for you,” I murmur, aware that we’ve been talking far too long. The rumor mill will be rife with fodder soon. “I don’t have a life now, and you’re the cause of it. Ask your boy here, as there will be hell to pay for it.”

“We miss him too,” Jared begins, but I shake my head.

“Then you’d never have let him take the fall for this,” I remind him. “He didn’t kill her.”

“How do you know?” he asks, eyes turning cold and mean. “Maybe he did.”

Elijah has told me too much already, and the rest of the pieces I’ve filled in my mind.

It may not be perfect, but it’s what makes the most sense.

If Ignacio was playing Rachelle and I, he wouldn’t have taken her to the hospital.

No, in fact, I know he used the bracelet’s app to find her.

It alerted my phone that night, even though I was sleeping.

There’s no reason he’d have needed it if he had been in the loop. Ignacio was distancing himself from them on purpose.

“Go fuck yourself,” I say, twisting to walk away.

“Very classy,” Jared calls out as I throw up my two middle fingers.

Now he can say that. He can sit on them and spin for all I care. They’re useless Kings who don’t even have a throne anymore.

I’d much rather be a queen of my own making, so I can watch the world burn.

“ Mija , do you really want to go down to the basement tonight?” Dad asks, lips pursed in worry.

I’ve been spiraling for the past three days since I saw Jared and Elijah, and it’s made me volatile and destructive. My skin is red from dry brushing it to remove any layers of skin where they touched me, my arms are covered in long sleeves to hide it despite the heat of the summer.

I fucking hate them so much. I don’t know what’s up or down anymore, everything is just awful. I need blood to run that doesn’t belong to me, need to hear screams that aren’t mine. I’m not quite a masochist yet, but I do enjoy other people’s pain.

“I need it, Daddy. Please?” I ask, biting my lip. He won’t respect begging. I need him to agree.

Mr. Emil’s heavy knock on the front door has me flinching, my fear of him not waning.

“Liliana, you’re worrying me,” he mutters, moving to answer the door.

Mr. Emil is the only one who comes to the house without calling, which is how I know it’s him. If I’m honest with myself, I’m also worried about my current mental state.

My father opens the door with a frown, nodding sharply to his boss and allowing him entrance.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the altercation at Carlysle Prep, Lili?” he asks. My eyes widen because I didn’t think he’d be here for me.

“It was nothing,” I promise, waiting for his eyes to land on me. My father closes the door with a heavy sigh, sounding exhausted. I feel bad that I’ve become such a burden for him.

“Liliana, you can’t let them get to you,” Mr. Emil says, surprising me. “I have my plans in place, I promise. I just need time. You need to live your life.”

“What life!” I scream, my hand slapping on my mouth. Fuck, he’s going to kill me. My breaths are coming faster and faster.

I can’t believe that I forgot myself like that.

“Hey,” he growls, snapping his fingers in my face. “Breathe. Passing out will just force me to wake you up, and I have too much to do tonight. Get your shit together.”

Nodding as I tremble, my breaths begin to normalize, though my eyes are huge as I wait for his next words. My father doesn’t appear too worried, simply crossing his arms across his chest as he waits for this to play out.

“Now, I can see that you’re having a moment, Lili,” Mr. Emil murmurs.

“I get it. Julia isn’t handling this very well either.

We lost them both for really terrible reasons.

Nacio and Rachelle wouldn’t want us to completely lose ourselves.

I’m not going to force you to go to therapy if you don’t want to.

We all saw how great that turned out for Rachelle.

If killing people will make you feel a little bit of peace, so be it.

The men downstairs are marked for death. I don’t even need answers from them.”

“Just make it hurt,” my father grunts. “I suppose we can practice your skinning techniques.”

He’s trying to get me to decide against going downstairs because the last time he showed me how to skin a person alive, it made me queasy. I don’t think I’ll have the same issues this time. I’m too fucking mad and I haven’t eaten anything all day.

Bring it on, viejo .

“That’ll be fine,” I say shortly, dropping my hand from my mouth. My voice is raspy and fucked because of the pendulum of harsh emotions that I’ve been feeling.

I expect I’ll be harboring these sentiments for a long time. I’ve been able to ice them out when necessary, but they always have a way of bubbling up. I know this isn’t healthy, I just don’t know how to survive without them.

I used to be stronger than this, and then I fell in love. Are they making me weak, or am I finally feeling the full range of human emotions?

For the record, it fucking sucks. My future stretches out in front of me like a black void, hopeless and lonely.

College looms in front of me, and I have a reprieve from packing for now.

Dad said that if I needed to, I could start in the spring.

It’s at least a chance to attempt to get my shit together.

I don’t know how I’m going to be able to cope.

What’s the point of living unless it’s for revenge? My footsteps are as heavy as my heart as I walk down the stairs to the basement. I know Rachelle wouldn’t like where I’m heading, both in life and now.

I don’t want to disappoint her, but she’s gone now. Nacio would tell me to cling to whatever I can until he can join me, and for him I’ll try. His life sentence can’t stand, it’s too cruel.

I feel so lost right now. Hope or despair, two sides of a coin, and equally cruel taskmasters. For now, I’m straddling the line, but one day I’ll fall. It’s just a matter of time.