“There’s a window. It doesn’t have an alarm.” This is bad. I was outside right after Emma died, and they have no proof I left my dorm when I said I did. That I was even coming from the dorm. Wait. “Are you asking because you think I did it? Do you think I came from the boathouse? Why would I walk from there to Whitley, then back to my dorm?”
“Hmm.” Cataldo shifts in her seat, leans back into the recline of the chair. “It’s why I asked you why you were out there. Looking for a logical explanation, that’s all.”
The wheels in my head are turning. My questions choke up my throat again. “Were the cameras out all the way to the boathouse? You think her killer cut them out?”
She ignores my questions. “So, you woke up from a nightmare, realized Emma wasn’t there, snuck out a window, walked over to Whitley, then turned around and went back.”
“Yes.”
She hmms under her breath. Again. It’s irritating enough that I know it’s on purpose.
“I know it sounds odd,” I say. “But I found footprints under the window, Emma’s size, and one of her earrings. She went through that window. I wanted to find her.”
“An earring?” Cataldo perks up. “You’re sure it was Emma Russo’s?”
“Definitely. Tyler gave them to her as a gift. Diamond studs. Too fussy for most girls here, so they stood out. It must have fallen out when she was coming in the window. You know how studs are. The backs pop off at the slightest provocation.”
“I don’t own any diamond studs.” Cataldo cracks a smile. “I’m curious why this didn’t come up in your first interview?”
“I put it in my pocket, forgot about it until now. Everything from that night is kind of a blur.”
“Do you know if she was wearing that set on the night of her death?”
“I can’t remember, but I assume so, since I found the earring under the window.”
“Emma wasn’t found wearing any earrings,” Cataldo says. I watch her, watching me. Know her wheels are turning. Mine certainly are. Did Emma lose that earring another time coming through the window? But the dorms are cleaned every week. What are the odds it got missed?
“Oh” is the only thing I can say.
“Have you told me everything about that night? Every detail? No other earrings in your pockets?”
I don’t like her tone. It walks the razor-thin line between mocking and accusatory.
“Yes,” I grind out. “I’ve told you everything. And I want you to know I would never hurt Emma.” It’s true, it’s all true, but the only thing I can think is: Would a killer say the same things? Has a killer said the same things already? Cataldo is looking at me, total poker face, and I can’t tell what she’s thinking. It’s maddening.
I suck in a breath to stop myself from crying.
Then I think. The cameras were out from Bay to the boathouse. Anyone from Bay might have used that as cover. Anyone, like Avery.
“Do you think Avery could have done it?” I blurt out.
Cataldo raises an eyebrow. “Do you think she would have killed someone for taking her spot at Harvard?”
“I don’t know.”
Yes.
“You said there were two, three spots? So Emma’s not the only one who got into Harvard. Someone else got in, too, and Avery didn’t hurt them.”
Yet. I need to get Cataldo off this line of questioning, which will lead her straight to me.
“How did Emma die?” It’s been gnawing at me. I’ve tried to imagine what it was like for her up until the very last. Morbid.
Cataldo narrows her eyes at me. “We’re not releasing that information at this time. You can understand.”
Yes. They are withholding it to use against the killer. Top-secret information. But I have to assume that means she didn’t drown.
“Olivia, have you seen the grief counselor yet?”
Not a question I was expecting. I stumble through an answer. “Uh, yeah, I had to, for like an hour yesterday. Why?”
Cataldo presses her lips together with concern. “Some curiosity about your friend is natural, but it’s okay to give yourself space to be sad. To mourn.”
She pushes back her chair and gets up, gesturing for the door. “Anyway, I wanted some clarification on why you were out so late that night, and now I have it. Thank you, Miss Winters. I may very well have some follow-up questions about your middle-of-the-night adventures. We’ll be in touch.”
She’s polite as punch, but why do I have the feeling this isn’t over?
I think I may be a suspect.
Sierra is waiting for me outside the conference room.
“You next?” But she shakes her head.
“No, my dad insisted on calling in our family lawyer, so they have to wait to speak to me. Avery and Margot are using that, too, to buy time.”
Yeah, that’s not suspicious.
“I wanted to check that you’re okay. How did it go?”
“It was really straightforward,” I begin slowly. Sierra’s smile seems genuine, but I can’t tell if it’s purposefully disarming. I can’t help sensing that Avery sent her to check up on me, make sure I did what they asked. “I walked her through the timeline, but I was honest that I went to bed early and didn’t see Emma after that.”
“She didn’t ask about us?”
Bingo. Reconnaissance mission for sure.
“Nope.” I’m nonchalant. Cool as a cucumber. Then I remember what Ethan said. That I should simply ask Sierra or Margot, one-on-one, what’s up. Sierra isn’t the only one who can play games.
But not here. I scan the halls, think of Cataldo listening on the other side of the door. “Hey, since exams are back on, you up for a last-minute AP Calc cram sesh?”
Sierra looks at her wrist. An empty gesture—there’s no watch on it. “Uh, sure,” she stammers. “I can tutor you for a few hours.”
Tutor. Not study. I’m not that bad at calc…but I’ll take it.
“Meet you in the Bay lounge in fifteen? I want to change out of…all this.” I indicate my shoes, which are pinching, and my pantyhose, which I’d like to burn.
Sierra agrees, and I head to the dorm, where I slip into mercifully soft, stretchy jeans and my Doc Martens. Then I go to the lounge and spot her at a table. Apparently, no one else wants to study immediately following a murder assembly—go figure—so the lounge is otherwise blissfully empty. Sierra and I dive right into some problem sets, and just to prove a point, I complete the first one on my own and nail it. Once I learn a concept, I’m good. I just sometimes need extra help, mon amie.