that guy said to you. And the accidents that have happened. Maybe you’re not responsible.”
I grab that hope, wanting to cling to it, but it’s dashed with what I’ve learned. “Only girls on the list have those accidents.”
“Are you sure?”
Not of anything. He touches the light switch and bathes the room in brightness, making me blink. “What are you doing?” I ask.
“Let’s look around.”
“Why?”
“Has this room ever been cleaned out?” he asks.
I shake my head. “My mom refuses to touch a thing. My dad has threatened to come in here with boxes and trash bags, but that always ends up in a screaming match. It’s why they separated.”
With the light on, the room is less ominous and sad. There’s a strange life to all these awards and trophies and books, a lingering energy that emanated from Conner. No wonder Mom didn’t want to take it all down and turn it into a guest room or something. Conner was still alive in here.
I stand up and walk to the shelves again, then to his desk. Behind me, I’m aware that Levi has opened the closet door. I’m not ready to touch Conner’s clothes quite yet. But I pull out the desk chair and run my finger along the thick powder of dust surrounding his big calendar blotter.
It’s opened to the month of October, the year he died. I stare at the eighteenth, but the day is blank. Most of the other dates have notes in them—Conner was insanely organized, with homework due dates, his work and football practice schedules jotted in. The name Alexa M on the Saturday after he died.
He hadn’t had a date with Alexa Monroe that night; he had a funeral instead.
Swallowing that morbid thought, I run my finger along the side of the blotter, drinking in the notes on Conner’s calendar. Behind me, I hear hangers moving over the rack, unsure what Levi thinks he’ll find in the closet.
I read Conner’s writing.
History exam
Pick, up paycheck
Debate team mtg. 8:00 a.m.
AP Language essay due
Practice 4:30–7:00
Game at St. Edward’s
NRNV course
“Kenzie.”
I barely hear him say my name because my eyes have just moved back to October seventeenth, frowning at the entry on that page: NRNV course. What class was that?
“Look at this.”
I want to turn to him, but I’m staring at those letters. What was NRNV? A school group? A team he was on? Why do those letters feel like they should mean something?
Levi’s hand lands on my shoulder. “This was in his letter-jacket pocket.”
I finally look at what he’s set on the desk in front of me. It’s a paper folded in thirds with a thick, broken wax seal. I frown at it, the wax seal such a foreign thing to see.
“Look closely,” he orders.
I do, lifting the paper so I can see the half seal in the light and read the letters that remain: et Nihil Vestigi.
“It’s only half a motto,” he whispers. “But we know the part that’s missing.”
Nihil Relinquere et Nihil Vestigi.
My heart drops as a puzzle piece snaps into place. NRNV. “Oh my God, Levi.” I look up at him. “Conner did the ropes course the night before he died.”
I flip open the paper and let out a soft grunt. It looks like a freaking Latin exam.
My phone dings in my pocket but we both ignore it, our attention on the paper.
“What does it say?” Levi asks.
“It’ll take some time to translate.”
The phone dings with another text, immediately followed by another.
“You better see who that is,” he says.
I reach into my jacket pocket to get the phone, but my hands brush a folded piece of paper—the one Jarvis Collier gave me. I pull it and my phone out at the same time, absently unlocking the phone with one hand while I flip open the folded paper with the other.
And see the same Latin words. The same phrases that Levi found in Conner’s pocket, the same numbers, the same everything. In fact, the sheet I have is an exact replica of Conner’s.
“Oh my God, Levi, do you see that?” I look up at him but he’s not reading either paper. The color has drained from his face and his dark eyes are burning in horror.
I follow his gaze to the phone, my blood turning ice cold as I read the words that show up over and over in the last three texts.
Amanda … Kylie … car … bridge … dead.
CHAPTER XXVII
Levi slept in the basement and slipped out before Mom got up this morning. I left early