trod that ground enough that he knows I prefer to be called by my first name.
Mikhail’s low chuckle confirms my suspicions.
“You’re impossible.”
Catching the slight upturn of my mouth, Mikhail’s face flashes a hint of a smile. “It is not the first time you have said that to me.”
“Probably won’t be the last, either. Go on. I’ll catch up.”
Adrienne meets my determined look with a nod.
Seemingly satisfied, they leave, with Mikhail putting a hand on the small of Adrienne’s back.
I close the door behind them, shaking my head. They are super cute together, but if they aren’t careful, they’ll be fodder for school gossip for weeks. Frankly, I was floored when Adrienne confessed they intended to date and Daddy actually agreed. Mikhail’s military general father must be more important than I realized, or there’s no way Daddy would allow it.
I peek out the window again, checking the progress of the investigation in the street. That section of pavement is roped off, but the markers have been removed. In the parking lot, several police officers are talking near their vehicles, but at the wave of a third officer, the crowd begins to disperse.
They thread through the lot, passing by Cal’s car.
Cal’s car.
My eyes nearly pop out of my head as I press my face to the window, trying in vain to get a look at the front of my brother’s car.
If I hit Professor Rook, there’s probably blood and guts on the front of it. My stomach lurches again, and I press my hand to my abdomen to will it to stop.
If anyone sees it…
Panic rises in my chest as I scramble to get dressed, checking out the window every few seconds. The police are standing two rows over from where Cal’s car is parked, but if they decide to check the cars in the lot, they’ll see it.
Crap.
I pull a thick, cable-knit sweater dress over my head, add fleece-lined leggings, and thick socks before shoving my feet into my chunky, vegan leather boots. Ordinarily I’d relish this last day of apparel freedom before I’m required to don my uniform, but I’m too rushed to enjoy the sensation of the soft fabric against my skin.
I slide one of my signature thin metallic headbands into my blond hair; the pressure behind my ears helps me focus. Grabbing my purse, I bolt toward the stairs. I pass another of my would-be nemeses, Gul Abidi, on the way down. Daughter of the Pakistani ambassador, she’s talking to Grady Houser, the son of one of the senators from Texas.
“Hey, wait! Did you hear what happened?” Gul’s eyes are glittering as she leans toward me to spill the dirt.
I literally cannot stop my eyes from rolling as I reply. “Adrienne told me. Keep it classy, Gul.”
She narrows her eyes as I turn to Grady. “When did you get back? I haven’t seen you around.” He’s wearing his usual casual attire—a navy tee emblazoned with a Dallas Cowboys star.
He taps the handle of the rolling suitcase at his side. “Just now. Freak snow storm grounded my plane for two days. Gul’s filling me in on what y’all have been up to over the past couple of weeks.”
“Great. See you guys later.”
Gul’s perceptive eyes are hot on my back as I descend past them.
As much as I’d love to dash down the stairs and outside, I can’t. Not with Gul watching. I have to remain composed, serene. Ignoring the growing panic in my chest, I keep an even, slow pace. Inside, I’m screaming.
I have to get outside and inspect Cal’s car before anyone else does.
The great wooden doors groan as I push them open. They’re tight in their frame, swollen from the dampness in the air. They swing closed with a thud as I take the steps carefully, not wanting to slip on the rain-slicked stone.
The medical examiner’s vehicle is gone, taking Professor Rook’s body with it. But the police are still standing near the scene, talking.
Averting my eyes, I walk casually toward Cal’s car, slipping my phone out of my purse. Maybe if they think I’m texting someone, no one will bother me.
I’m almost there. Only one more row of cars to go.
My heart is hammering in my throat as I approach the vehicle. I try not to picture the gruesome sight that likely awaits me, but it’s almost impossible. What if there are clumps of hair stuck to the car’s grille? What if there’s a body-shaped dent in the bumper?
My stomach heaves. I should not have thought