sink.
“I … just heard a rumor,” I start, and then Ranger is spinning on me, moving forward and grabbing me by the front of my shirt. He jerks me toward him and gets in my face, cold and scary and quiet in his rage.
“From who?” he asks, and his voice is so dark that I shiver from the sound of it.
“I don't know, just some guy,” I choke out, reaching up to curl my fingers around his wrist. As soon as I touch him, his eyes widen, and he pushes me back. I stumble, but I manage to keep my feet. “Why does it matter?”
“Don't go digging into shit you don't understand,” Ranger whispers, and then he's storming past me and out the bathroom door. It slams shut behind him, and I take in the grim faces of the other four boys. There's this darkness in the air that I don't like.
“What did I do?” I say, and my voice echoes in the fancy marble bathroom.
“You should go.” Church is staring at me with a flat gaze that makes my skin crawl.
For a split-second there, I almost protest, just out of natural orneriness. The twins don't give me a chance, stepping forward and grabbing me by either arm. They unceremoniously toss me onto my ass, their green eyes dark as they look down at me, rubbing my lower back and cursing.
“What the hell is going on here?” I snap, and the two of them exchange a look.
“Only idiots talk shit about Ranger’s sister, Chuck,” they reply, sticking their tongues out at me and flipping me off at the same time. The bathroom door is slammed in my face, and I'm left to sit alone in the dark to contemplate.
The things my mind comes up with … are far from pleasant.
But Ranger’s sister? Interesting …
The next day, I find myself back in the library, digging through all the old yearbooks as I look for any sign of another Woodruff attending Adamson Academy. The only person I can find however is an Eric Woodruff from almost two decades earlier than the missing girl.
“Are you back here slinking around again?” Mr. Dave asks me, appearing like a shadow at the end of the aisle. I jump, a cold chill traveling down my spine as I clutch Eric’s yearbook against my chest. I'm going to take pictures of the pages with my phone. Why, I'm not exactly sure. Something inside of me says that I should just walk away and leave this whole thing alone.
But … I don't like secrets, especially ones that make everyone else so damn nervous. What are they hiding and why are they hiding it? I thought I was the first girl to attend Adamson, and now I find out that's all a lie. Only … there's no trace of the last girl anywhere. Not in the old yearbooks, not even online.
Last night, I spent hours stalking Ranger's social media, looking through his family and friends, and I couldn't find one mention of a sister anywhere. There's something so wrong about that. Like, how can a person disappear so completely?
“I'm just doing some research for a paper,” I reply, staring the man's dark gaze down without flinching. “I just need another five minutes or so to make notes, and I'll be out of your hair.”
“Hmm. Just remember we close in twenty minutes,” he barks at me, and I jump. I'm not the only student in the library staring at the librarian in a sheer panic. He's freaking terrifying. A few of the other boys look down and bury themselves in their work for fear of catching his attention.
I nod, and he disappears again, leaving me enough time to take pictures of the pages with my phone. I grab some shots of the years before and after the missing Woodruff girl’s graduating class. Maybe if I can find some of them on Facebook or something, they’ll have more information. Surely some of them knew her, and maybe even have their own copy of the yearbook.
Later that night, when I head back to the girls' dormitory, I compare the photos of Eric Woodruff to the girl in the picture.
They have the same dark hair, same sapphire eyes, and high cheekbones. Now that I'm looking for it, it's easy to see that Ranger's related to the other two. Based on my online snooping, it seems Eric Woodruff now goes by his mother’s last name Warren, following some sort of scandal. Apparently, he’s some