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find something. I’ll make him say something.”

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I nod.

I can’t even imagine what Linc’s going through right now—what he’s feeling. We’re all still nervous to jump the gun and report anything before we have irrefutable proof, but I think there’s also a part of Lincoln that needs a little bit more time to accept that this could really be possible. That his father, a man he might not always like but certainly loves, could be capable of something as vicious and heartless as what we witnessed.

“Yeah. A few days,” I murmur. “Get something tangible, and we can go to Dunagan after Christmas.”

He closes his eyes for a second, breathing shallowly. Then he steps forward and kisses me once.

Before I can draw all the comfort I need from that kiss, he pulls away, turning to face the other boys.

“You should all go. If my dad noticed the extra car in the garage, I’ll tell him Dax and Chase crashed here last night.” His gaze bounces between me and River. “I won’t tell him either of you were here. The fewer people he thinks might’ve heard them, the better.”

The others all nod solemnly.

“Go. Now. Take the service stairs and walk around to the garage. I’ll keep an eye out up here and text if there’s any movement.”

I pick up my bag and shove my scattered clothes back inside as the others disappear to grab their shit. As soon as the boys come back, the four of us make a break for it, hustling to the end of the hallway and down the stairs before slipping out through the service entrance. We’re all still dressed in our sleep clothes; nobody bothered to change.

We make it to Dax’s car and pile inside, then he pulls down the driveway and out the gate.

No text comes from Lincoln.

We’re safe.

But that doesn’t stop every muscle in my body from shaking the entire drive back to River’s house.

26

The next few days feel like being trapped in purgatory.

Lincoln won’t let any of us back over to his house—not even the other guys—and although I know why he wants to keep us away, I can’t stand the thought of him locked up there alone with Audrey and Samuel. Searching, all by himself, for evidence that his father is a murderer.

Jesus, how much more fucked up could this shit get?

We text every day, but despite the frequent check-ins, Linc has no news.

It makes sense. Mr. Black isn’t an idiot. He’s a sharp, cunning businessman—of course he knows how to cover his tracks. I’m half-tempted to take what we know to Dunagan now, to move on this before it’s too late.

But what if Mr. Black has Dunagan in his pocket too? What if the whole arrest at the Black cocktail party was a show, purposefully orchestrated so that the largest possible crowd could witness my mom being hauled away?

To anyone in the ballroom that night, Samuel Black probably looked like a hero, a concerned employer standing up for his employee. But he didn’t fight that hard. He let them take her. And his innocence was affirmed by her supposed guilt.

And what about that lawyer he recommended?

Was Leda Koffman even working to get my mom out of jail, or was she just bleeding her bank account dry while sabotaging the case from the inside?

I have too many questions and still not enough answers, and with every day that goes by, I feel anger ratcheting up inside me like a roller coaster climbing slowly up the tracks. When it hits the peak, I don’t know what’s going to happen.

River and I hole up in his little downstairs apartment for the most part, and Dax and Chase come over often—but we’re missing a piece, and we all feel it.

On Christmas morning, I throw on a thick sweater and a pair of leggings. River’s parents have grudgingly put up with my presence, but I’m not exactly invited to join their holiday festivities—which is fine by me. I can sense the tension between River and his dad every time they’re in a room together, and I don’t want to add to it or be the source of conflict. Besides, I want to see my own mom. That’s who I should be spending the holiday with.

“You sure you don’t mind?” I ask for the third time, jiggling the car keys as they dangle from one finger.

“Positive.” River’s smile is soft. “My dad bought it for me since he couldn’t handle the thought of his son not having one. Didn’t look right. But I’ve only driven it twice. Take it.”

I chew my lip. “You know I’m not taking it forever, right? I’m just borrowing it.”

“I know.”

He tugs me back down onto the couch beside him, dragging me halfway onto his lap and kissing me. I kiss him back, enjoying how easy it feels. Ever since that night at Linc’s house, something has shifted, has cracked open between us. I like it.

Part of me wonders if we’re moving too fast, but it’s hard to tell what too fast is when time doesn’t mean anything anymore.

And it doesn’t.

My mom was arrested just under two months ago, and that’s too damn long and barely the blink of an eye all at once.

River’s phone buzzes in his pocket, and I feel the vibrations since I’m practically sitting on him. He breaks our kiss as he tugs it out, glancing down at the screen and grimacing.

“It’s my mom. The Bettencourt family Christmas is about to start.” His gray-blue eyes narrow as he looks at me again. “You’re sure you’ll be okay?”

“Yeah.” I snatch one more kiss and then stand, twirling his keys around my finger. “There’s not even that much snow on the ground. I’ll just do a few donuts in a parking lot and then head to the prison.”

It just goes to show how little River cares about the car that no alarm shows on his face at my mention of doing donuts. He chuckles softly, then

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