Flaw stayed silent as I blinked away my illness and collected it from the floor. I must’ve grabbed it while dreaming, hoping for a text.

Did he message?

I swiped it on.

Nothing.

No messages. No calls. No emails.

I’ve been completely forgotten.

Some part of me hoped that now Jethro was awake, he’d text me. That for the first time in months, we’d talk like we had before this mess started. Kite to Threads. Inbox to inbox.

“Has he been in touch?” Flaw glanced at my phone.

My lungs deflated; I shook my head. “No.” Brushing stray hair from my eyes, I said, “I heard that he’s awake, though. You?”

A slight smile tilted his lips. “Yes. She told me.”

I smiled back. I’d entered Hawksridge believing everyone was my enemy. Turned out, only a few people were worthy of that title. Most of them were kind and honourable, wrapped up in their own issues, but ultimately generous and just like any stranger—frightening and mysterious until the boundary of no acquaintance distorted into friendship.

Kes had proven that. Then Jasmine. And now Flaw.

I knew all along I could win Jethro.

In a way, I think I’d known he was mine ever since I was young.

Once this was all over, I wanted to find out how many times we’d met. How many instances we’d spoken in our childhood—being groomed for our roles.

“Anyway.” Flaw swayed on his heels. “I’m not here for a social call. Been instructed to bring you to her majesty.”

My eyes widened. “What?”

“Not the Queen of England.” He smirked. “The Queen of Hawksridge.” Jamming his hands deeper into his pockets, his eyes darkened. “She wants a word.”

“A word or a beating?” I clutched my phone. “A conversation with the old bat, alone, isn’t high on my list of priorities.”

If you’re alone, though, you could kill her.

The thought welded me to the carpet.

“I wouldn’t recommend calling her ‘old bat’ in person, if I were you.”

My mind ran away, forgetting Flaw existed. The only way I could kill those who needed to die was to be strategic. I couldn’t do it around others. I couldn’t do it in plain sight. I had to be sneaky and wily and smart.

Every night, I stared into the darkness, using the black emptiness as a chalkboard for my plotting. I wished I had a treadmill in my room. Running always helped me problem solve. But even though my body remained stationary, it didn’t mean my mind did.

I’d never been so enamoured with death before or so hyped on hypothetical murder.

I knew from television to expect copious amounts of blood and a struggle if I stabbed my victims to death. I also knew that strength would mean nothing against Cut and Daniel, so I had to have the element of surprise.

A gun would’ve solved my problems, but the noise and lack of experience in aiming could potentially be my downfall.

All opportunities led to one conclusion…I had to be quick and quiet. I had to be ruthless. And it had to look like an accident or remain hidden long enough to steal three lives before I was slaughtered in retribution.

I can’t kill Bonnie.

Not yet. It had to be Daniel or Cut first…then her.

She’ll be my last.

“You better go. I doubt she’ll make allowances for lateness even if you haven’t written her on your social calendar.” Flaw’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “New day. New psychological plague to administer.”

I narrowed my gaze. “Ha-ha. Not funny.”

Taking a deep breath, I placed my cell-phone on the end of the bed. “I guess I have no choice.” Spinning to face him, I gathered my long hair and secured it in a messy ponytail with an elastic band from my wrist. “Did she say why at least?”

“Do I look like I have tea and crumpets with the fucking woman?” Flaw rolled his eyes. “All I was told was to get you.” He held up his hands. “And no, I don’t have insider knowledge like I did with the lawyers. This time, you’re on your own.”

His eyes skated down my white jumper with a filigree seahorse and denim skirt. “I, eh…don’t have to tell you what happened a few days ago has to remain secret…no matter what she, eh…does?”

My heart spiralled into a tailspin. “What are you saying? She’ll torture me?”

I was no stranger to pain but deliberate extraction of information through agony? How long can I endure something like that?

He stiffened. “If she knew you had something you weren’t telling…I wouldn’t put it past her.” Coming closer, the strain around his mouth and eyes was prevalent.

I’m not the only one not sleeping.

“I don’t need to tell you how—”

“How important it is that those who shall not be named remain dead? Yes, I understand.” I placed my hand on his arm. “I won’t tattle. What you did to help them has firmly earned my loyalty. My lips are sealed.”

The air in the room turned heavy with seriousness. “I’d understand if she did something to make you tell.”

I blanched. “You think I’ll crack? I’m in love with him. There’s no way in hell I would jeopardise their lives.”

His shoulders slumped. “Okay. Sorry for pushing. My neck’s on the line, too.”

I dropped my touch. “I know. You’ve gone above and beyond…only…”