Counterfactual

12 | ghastly

CHAPTER TWELVE

GHASTLY

( — resembling a ghost, especially in being very pale. )

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          ROWAN DOESN'T KNOW IF EVERYONE ELSE SEEMS A BIT OFF, OR IF IT'S JUST HIM. Considering everyone in this place is so incredibly similar in that aspect and it can't simply be a coincidence (he has had enough of blaming it all on those, damn it; sometimes, things are just shady), it might be his problem instead of theirs, but it was so easy to not blame himself. It was certainly a way of protecting himself, his ego, and his sanity, whatever there's left of it.

          In this case, however, he knows exactly what he's doing and with whom he's dealing. He has vaguely heard about her, as rumors and badmouthing are immensely quick to travel around the campus, and the mean comments think it's absolutely hilarious how she got disowned by her own parents. Rowan doesn't know the reason why, and it seems like those people don't know it either, but they're so unbelievably competitive they thrive on others' disgrace.

          Rowan might be an awful person himself, but he wouldn't step as low as they have. That's just plain cruelty.

          Brows knitted together, he asks Rhiannon, "How come?"

          "Have you heard about the Social Psychology experiment two of our professors are conducting?" Rowan risks a sluggish nod, still trying to understand why in the world she'd want to talk to him when they had never directed two words to one another, not even a quick nod when they walk past each other. "I'm part of it."

          "My book isn't about that thing."

          With a tiny huff, one Rowan suspects she didn't even notice she let out, Rhiannon wrinkles her nose. "I'm aware. I know you're writing about the urban legends, the lore, the tales, whatever you want to call it, because that's one of Gabriel's favorite things. I get it." Rowan uncrosses his arms and takes a step forward to make her lower her voice even more, instantly remembering most people shouldn't know what he's here to do and for whom he works. "I'm technically not allowed to tell you anything about what happens there, and, if this gets out or if anyone finds out you knew this through me, I'll be getting in serious trouble."

          "Fine, fine." He sighs, surrendering, as the girl is risking whatever's left of her reputation at this place—and, possibly, her spot in the experiment—to help him, for reasons still unbeknownst to him, though he's assuming she's doing it for Isla. He would do the same. "What's in it for me, then?"

          "I think I know how they chose the participants and why." Rhiannon inhales, briefly glancing at something behind her. "I think they want us to figure out what happened to Taylor Morris because they believe we know something the police don't."

          He doesn't even want to go there. Though cops certainly aren't perfect—he knows plenty about brutality, especially when taking his country and ethnicity into consideration—Rowan really wants to think the Canadian ones are different than those he's grown used to and actually do their job. That means they really don't need civilians to get involved in the investigation for no reason, as they run the risk of hindering it and making it a lot harder than it needs to be. He has seen it happen all the time on TV, but this is real life. A girl is in danger.

          And what the hell is he supposed to do with that information, though? He can't tell anyone about it because it will get Rhiannon in trouble—and he certainly doesn't want to make her life any more difficult than it already is, not to mention Isla would give him hell as soon as she found out—but how is he supposed to keep it all to himself? Wouldn't that get him in trouble, since he'll be withholding information from the authorities?