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.
I catch Sierra checking her phone every few minutes. She’ll bolt soon if I don’t act fast.
“Hey, I was wondering….What’s with you guys being so anal about the timeline? None of us saw Emma after the party, right?”
Sierra’s hand stills, pencil poised precariously over her notepaper. “No. Why would you ask me that?”
“Uh, because the detective is asking, and we had an emergency meeting to go over the timeline.”
“We just wanted to get on the same page. You’re being paranoid, Liv.”
Her words echo. Familiar. When I asked them why they went into Northampton when they knew I had homework. When I asked if they went to a room party without me. Late brunches and early dinners and movies in Avery’s room.
You’re being paranoid, Liv. We didn’t purposefully exclude you.
I wasn’t paranoid then, and I’m not now.
But I smile, laugh it off. I am good, agreeable Olivia. “Yeah, sorry, the detective just has me