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When 17-year-old Arbor Hayes' best friend turns up alive after a mysterious six-month disappearance, she must piece together the fragments of her story to make sense of what happened. But as clues e...
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After what feels like an eternity, Emma steps back, her gaze gripping mine like a vice.
Heat swamps my nerve endings before taking over my entire body. "What the fuck are you doing here?" I hiss as soon as her hand leaves my mouth.
I yank the comforter from my bed and wrap it around me as best I can. It's not like Emma's never seen me in my underwear before, but standing half-naked in front of her now feels unnatural. And I'm not about to make myself more vulnerable than I already am.
Her lips quiver like she's trying not to laugh. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. You just looked so cute getting ready for bed. It reminded me of when we were kids and I used to stay over. Remember how sweet we were back then, always wanting to spend the night at each other's houses?"
The hell she didn't mean to scare me! If I didn't know better, I'd say she accomplished exactly what she was hoping to.
Don't let her distract you with nostalgia. My jaw clenches, white hot tension radiating up both sides of my face. "What are you doing in my room?"
Emma's eyes widen, the picture of pure innocence. "Waiting for you?"
"In the dark?" I say through gritted teeth.
"I didn't think you'd answer if I sent a text. We didn't exactly leave things on friendly terms, did we?" She doesn't wait for an answer. "Were you out with Smith?"
A suffocating heaviness stifles the air, making it impossible to take a full breath. She already knows the answer, I can feel it, but I'm not giving her the satisfaction. "It's Friday night. I went to the football game—same as I always do."
She nods, slowly, deliberately, but doesn't let it go. "With Smith." It's not a question.
I choose my next words carefully. "He was there, but so were a lot of people."
"Except you weren't there to see a lot of people."
She's toying with me, the way a cat teases a mouse before the kill. Well, I'm not playing her stupid game. "Actually, I did go to see someone, but it wasn't Smith." I give her a moment, let what I said sink in. "I was hoping to find Jordan."
Emma doesn't flinch. "And did you?"
I hate the expression on her face, the one that says she's here with a lucrative business opportunity. But her job is a shady one. The kind that sends up red flags and makes you want to flee in the opposite direction.
A lump of fear settles in the back of my throat, but I swallow past it, not letting her see. "She was there, but it was too crowded to talk. I guess it'll have to wait for the soccer game tomorrow."
Her hands drag down her face. She waits a beat, and then, "Hayes—I'm not sure what you're trying to accomplish here. Whatever Jordan thinks she knows is wrong, unless she had something to do with my disappearance. And who knows, maybe she did? At this point, anything's possible." Her posture softens as she studies me. "Can I be honest with you?"
