“I didn’t do anything. You’ve got the wrong person,” Tipton whines as he trips along behind Cataldo. I’m satisfied to see he’s now the one being dragged against his will. The detective makes no effort to increase his comfort, though I suspect it’s more a matter of damage control than cruelty. Everyone from the memorial is crowded around us now, people pointing at Cataldo and Tipton, their whispers raging like a wildfire. I hear “Emma” and “killer” and “Olivia wasn’t crazy” behind my back. I bristle at the word. And then I groan. The adrenaline of Tipton’s attack is fading, ebbing to leave an ache all over my body, a sudden exhaustion.
Avery puts an arm around my shoulders and steers me in the direction of the parking lot. “I’ll drive you to the hospital. If that’s okay with you, Headmistress?”
“Yes, yes, good thinking, Miss Montfort,” she says. “I have to confer with the board and compose a message to the parents.”
“Can I go, too?” Tyler asks, though he’s already pushed forward to walk alongside us, making the request moot.
“Yes, I’m sure your sister will appreciate the company.”
“Stepsister,” Avery mumbles under her breath, so only I can hear. But I catch her sniffling, too, as we slowly make our way to her car. We’ve caught Emma’s killer, and the grief of her death bubbles up anew. Even though this means closure, I don’t think we will ever truly recover.
I do not have a concussion, or any other serious damage, so the ER doctor gives me a painkiller for my throat and head and sends me on my way. Unfortunately, instead of going back to school, we drive to the police station in town for questioning, as ordered. I’m there until after midnight, unraveling the past few days and all the threads of my amateur investigation for Cataldo. When I get to the secret room in the boathouse and Avery’s burned Harvard hoodie, the veins in the detective’s neck start popping.
“You kept all of this from me?” she says.
“Well, technically, I told you about the room in the boathouse,” I offer feebly.
“I should charge you with obstruction, but I’m feeling generous.”
“If you’d been straight with me about your line of questioning, about Tipton, I would have told you about the cheating and the phone,” I say, though I don’t know if that statement is true. Would I have trusted her if she’d told me where her investigation was leading? Or might I have suspected a trap and continued on stubbornly?
Either way, I am thankful to avoid a charge. I don’t tell her about Kaila, or Emma and the SAT scam, because it doesn’t seem relevant, and why blow up everything now?
It’s 12:30 a.m. when I emerge from the interrogation room. I pull my phone from my pocket and hope it still has a charge so I can call a Lyft, but there’s a surprise waiting for me in the lobby.
“You waited for me?” I ask Avery, unable to hide my shock.
“Again, not an asshole. You shouldn’t ride with some stranger after all this. Tyler went back a few hours ago, though.”
We walk silently to Avery’s silver Audi. She beeps the locks open, and I groan as I sink into the leather seats. I could fall asleep right here. Avery powers on and steers us onto the silent, nearly pitch-black road back to Claflin.
“I know you’re flying home tomorrow, and we might not have time to see each other before you go,” she says. Her eyes remain glued on the road ahead, not because she must remain vigilant at this time of night but because it’s easier not to look at me when she speaks. I find it easier, too. “I know I can be a bitch. We all can be. We kept…certain things from you, for your sake. I’m not sorry about that. But you still did plenty. You’re not some innocent victim here, Liv. I asked you to join the Ivies because I saw it in you. You’re ambitious and competitive. Having less money than we do doesn’t make you a saint.”
I know she’s right, yet I suck in a breath, ready to go on the defensive. She doesn’t understand what it’s like to be me. But Avery doesn’t skip a beat.
“I don’t have many friends. I know that. Real friends, people who like me for me. I thought, Did you just want to hang around me for my money? Because I could do things for you? Free wine on Avery? Hand-me-down clothes?” This time she pauses to wait for my reply.
“No,” I answer emphatically. “I can’t fit into your clothes.”
It wasn’t meant as a joke, but she laughs anyway. “Good point. Emma was always happy to take a hand-me-down, though.”
We both stall on Emma.
“I didn’t think you were the type to cheat on the SAT,” I say. “You take school so seriously.”
“That was my mom.” Her voice sparks with venom. “Arranged everything with Emma, paid her, and then informed me. But I refused, Liv. You have to believe me. Emma didn’t take the test for me. I told Emma if she went through with it, I’d burn her ass on…well, take your pick from the laundry list of things you’ve been sticking your nose in all sorts of places to find out.”
“Your name was still on her spreadsheet, though,” I say, and before it’s even out, I remember Avery’s name highlighted in yellow. An exception.
“Emma did a credit swap. Got Tyler a better score instead. Mom adores him. And Emma would do anything the great Katherine Montfort wanted. She was angling for a cushy summer internship at Harker Pharma. I’ve tried to piece together at what point our friendship became purely transactional.” It’s like Avery is wounded and bleeding before me. But I’m stuck on Tyler.
“Kaila said Tyler was the guy who took the test for Emma’s male clients. So how could she improve his score?”
“Oh, Emma replaced him ages ago.” Avery makes a dismissive gesture with one hand, and the car drifts slightly off center. I grip the door handle. “She wouldn’t tell us with who, though. Said he could crack fifteen hundred with his eyes closed, so she could charge a higher premium for the boys now. Tyler lost her thousands.”
Rejection stabs through me. “You guys really knew everything. You say it was for my sake, keeping me out of the worst things, but I think that’s bullshit, Aves. You’re crying that you don’t have any real friends, but you say that to me, who you kept at arm’s length. You lied to me for three years. It’s obvious Emma only got close to me so she could steal my key and get access to the ID maker. What did you use me for?”
Avery’s jaw flexes. Back to a sure, two-handed grip, her fingers wrap tighter around the steering wheel. “Emma…” She blows out a heavy breath through her nose. “Yes, she used you for your office access. I didn’t approve. I thought it was low as shit to angle for you as her roommate to keep tabs on you. And I kept things from you, but I never used you. No more than you used me.”