“You want me to spy on their meetings?”
Dr. O’s eyes lift, a hopeful light gleaming in their depths. “All you need to do is ask around. Make friends. Get people talking. See what you can find out about Jimmy Balder. The senator is rarely there, and when he is, we’ll make sure you aren’t.” He holds my gaze, and I can’t help the swell of pride that comes with his confidence. “And when you’re home, I want you to see what Grayson knows about it.”
A grim feeling crawls up my spine. The director is normally reserved, methodical about his assignments, but because of Susan this is personal. And personal can mean messy.
It doesn’t matter. If Dr. O’s taking this chance to send me in, it’s got to be worth the risk.
“I understand,” I say.
His smile is tight, lips pulled over teeth.
“Mr. Moore will give you the details. He’s preparing your alias now.”
Would have been nice of Moore to give me a heads-up this was coming, but of course that isn’t how it works. His loyalty is to Dr. O, just like all of ours.
“This must be handled quietly,” the director says. “I don’t want you speaking to anyone about this job. Not Grayson, not the other students here.”
“Why?”
“It’s imperative we secure Grayson’s trust. If you tell your friends, and they accidentally let it slip when he’s around, how do you think he’ll react? He believes we’re here to help him. That we are a traditional, elite boarding school. If his only friend takes an internship with the man he fears, that destroys any chance at rapport.”
Dr. O is right, but I don’t like the idea of lying to my friends.
“As does any relationship you might be engaged in. Grayson does seem … fond of you.”
At Dr. O’s knowing look, my hands fist at my sides. What I have with Caleb is my business and no one else’s. But as with every order Dr. O delivers, there’s a whisper of threat.
If I refuse him, I lose Vale Hall. This roof over my head. This food in my belly. The safety of my friends.
My head falls forward. He’s right. Grayson is singularly focused, and he doesn’t like to share. Intimacy is often formed in times of stress—we learned that one week in conning class. When the mark feels alone, and scared, they’re more likely to fall for any gesture of kindness.
If I’m going to keep Grayson’s trust, I’ll have to put whatever Caleb and I have on hold. He’ll understand. He’d do the same thing in my position.
It’s not like it’s forever.
“What am I supposed to tell people when I leave?” I ask.
Dr. O gives a small shrug. “Tell Grayson you’re visiting family. Tell your friends I’ve asked you to investigate a potential student. You’re creative, I’m sure you’ll think of something.”
I glance to the stone tablet to my right, near the door. Etched in it are three words: Vincit Omnia Veritas. Truth conquers all.
Caleb and I promised we wouldn’t lie to each other, and the thought of betraying Charlotte or Sam or Henry drives twin spikes of anger and desperation straight through me.
These are some of the first real friends I’ve ever made. I don’t want to lose them.
“They’ll understand,” Dr. O says, reading my unguarded expression. “It’s the nature of your positions here.” His smile is laden with sympathy. “Send Caleb in when you leave. There are a few things we need to discuss as well.”
“Yes, sir,” I mutter on my way out.
CHAPTER 3
Caleb is waiting for me at the top of the spiral staircase, at the mouth of the girls’ wing. Pinched lines have formed between his brows, and the carpet is a wash of his pacing footprints. As I come into view, he rushes toward me.
“What’s going on?”
“Grayson’s staying until Dr. O can put his dad in jail.” I glance over his shoulder. The hallway appears empty, but anyone could be listening. We’re going to have to be careful about what we say in the open from now on.
“How long will that be?” The hitch in Caleb’s tone triggers an automatic hush from me. I grab his hand, pulling him into an alcove beside the supply closet. The thump of the bass from Paz’s radio will muffle our conversation here.
“He can’t stay here,” Caleb growls. “He killed someone. He could’ve hurt you.”
I dig my thumbs into my temples. “It was an accident.” There are so many factors at play Caleb doesn’t understand—that no one could have, unless they were there. Grayson isn’t just a criminal, he’s a victim. He’s a teenager, afraid of his father.
I’ve lived with violence long enough to know that fear makes you do crazy, desperate things.
“How many people have you accidentally run off the road?”
I sag, and Caleb’s hands move to my shoulders. His grip is warm and steadying. I want to fall forward into him. To rewind to before Grayson got here.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I just … I don’t like it.”
“I know.” But there’s nothing I can do about it. Grayson is here, which means I’m on, and the sooner I can get what Dr. O needs, the sooner everything will go back to normal.
“It’s going to be fine,” I say, maybe for him. Maybe for me. “Grayson trusts me. He won’t hurt me.”
“You’re sure of that?” Caleb’s arms drop. “How well do you really know him?”
“Are you kidding? I probably know him better than I know you.”
Caleb scowls.
I was joking. We research our marks extensively before setting up a con—Grayson is no exception—but what Caleb and I went through last summer with the Wolves goes deeper than any amount of digging. He has to know that.
I step closer. “You know what I—”
“Brynn?”
We both turn sharply to find Grayson and Henry coming down the hallway that leads to the third floor where the boys sleep. Grayson, now wearing black jeans and a Vale Hall shirt marked with a raven, slows as he approaches. His eyes flick from Caleb to me.
“You’ve met Caleb and Brynn,” says Henry anxiously, cutting around Grayson in order to herd him toward the steps. “Come on, I’ll show you downstairs. We have a pool, did I mention that?”
“Can we talk?”
Grayson’s words hang between us, tense and weighted. Caleb and Henry might as well not be here; with three words, Grayson’s cut them out of the conversation.
Reality catches up with me in one hard lurch. I need to make him comfortable. He needs to feel safe here.
I smile and step away from Caleb, putting another foot between us. “I was just looking for you,” I tell Grayson.
Caleb’s arms cross over his chest, wrinkling the button-down shirt he wore to the test.
“I was giving him the tour,” Henry jumps in.
“I’ll finish it.” I reach for Grayson’s arm. Caleb gives a small cough, and the sound punches through me. I focus on the downward pull of his lips and remember every time I’ve kissed him. The first time at the river, and in the gardens, and last week, in a frenzied moment in the laundry room downstairs.