The Secret Girl (Adamson All-Boys Academy #1) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,69

He hands me a beer, and I take it.

“There are no cameras that work in here, not anymore.” Micah points at the corner where the quiet, black eye of a security camera gazes down at us. “There used to be, but there's no electricity to this building now.”

“So … does everyone know this was going to be a girls' dorm?” I ask, and Micah raises his brows. “I'm taking it that's a no then?”

“We were told they wanted to expand the school. Nobody ever said anything about a girls' dorm.” Micah frowns and leans forward to accept a beer from his brother. “Who told you that?”

“My dad,” I reply with a shrug. “Why?”

“Most people don't know anything about Jenica. Even we didn't know this was supposed to be the girls' dorm.” Micah leans back in his chair and twists the top off his beer, swigging a good portion of it before he sets it on his thigh and spins it in a slow circle.

“Are you guys going to stop being cryptic and tell me about Jenica? Why does Ranger think she was murdered when everyone else believes she committed suicide?” I twist my own top off and take a sip of beer. It's got an almost … cinnamon like aftertaste. Better than most beer, actually. I'm pleasantly surprised.

The twins exchange a look, and Tobias sighs, reaching up to run his fingers through his sandy-orange hair. He purses his lips and gives me a long, lingering look.

“As soon as I figured it out, I was worried about you.” Tobias stands up and moves over to the opposite end of the couch from me, taking a sip of his beer. “The only girl to ever attend Adamson, and she was killed.”

“But why does everything think it was suicide?” I repeat, starting to get frustrated. The twins exchange another look, and then Micah scoffs, like he's irritated with his brother.

“She was found hanging from a noose in the woods outside the school, barefoot and wearing her nightgown.” Micah throws his hand out to indicate the back side of the dormitory. “This building was just getting ready to officially open when she died. They gave her the first room, the one on the top floor, so she could have some privacy. Jenica moved her stuff in, what, the night before she died?”

“Two nights before,” Tobias corrects, finishing his beer and getting out another. “Of course, this is all hearsay and rumor. Ranger was eight years old back then. None of us know shit about what actually happened here.” He sighs again, and Micah rolls his eyes.

“But we do know that before she died, she was mixed up in a bunch of stuff. There was a journal … well, there are pages missing from it, but from what we’ve seen, Jenica wrote about some pretty fucked-up shit.”

“Ranger has the journal?”

“Yep. Pretty sure he’s read it a hundred times already. He’s let us see a few pages here and there, but I think he wants to protect what’s left of his sister’s memory.” Tobias stares straight ahead, at the little red wax drops on the coffee table. “Can’t blame him, I’d do the same.” His voice drifts strangely, and I swear, the tension in Micah rachets up a hundredfold. Once again, there’s something going on between them that I don’t understand. I decide to leave it be. The twins are big mouths: if they wanted to tell me, they would.

“She did stumble on Spencer’s brother selling drugs in the woods,” Micah adds, “we know that. For a while, Ranger wondered if he or one of his cronies might’ve killed her.”

“Drugs?” I ask, raising a skeptical brow. “Like the weed Spencer sells?”

Tobias lifts his head up to glance over at me.

“No, not at all. I mean like hardcore shit. Hardcore. Spencer’s a great guy, but his brother’s a twat. He’d be in prison already if their family didn’t keep paying off the police.” He shrugs his shoulders, takes another sip of his beer, and then looks away, toward the wall of boarded windows. “No point in telling him that though. He loves the guy too much to see his true faults.”

“Are you trying to infer something here?” Micah snaps, getting edgy and irritated again. “Because if you are, then just come out and fucking say it. I’m tired of dancing around the Amber issue.” Uh-oh. My eyes widen and I focus straight ahead, drinking from the brown bottle in my hand, and pretending like I’m not supremely