Page 140 of Gilt

“You know better than to believe rumors.” Jameson takes the interrogation in stride, but I can’t help looking at the floor. Maybe someday I’ll get used to being analyzed by everyone we meet, even people we already know, but today’s not that day.

As it is my patience with social pleasantries is up. “Look, we came for a reason. I didn’t see who pushed us through that window, but I know you did.”

Jameson sighs next to me, but I ignore him. His social caste might get off on their games of cat and mouse, but I live in the real world where bluntness will suffice.

“I don’t remember,” Leighton says in a small voice.

It’s probably best that there are still a few monitors hooked up to her, because I really want to shake an answer out of her. Instead I’ll have to stick to gentle encouragement. Two traits I’m not known for.

“I remember your face right before the…accident.” I decide to go with the lie. If Leighton doesn’t believe she’s ratting someone out maybe we’ll get more out of her. “You looked happy.”

“Happy?” Her voice is hollow as she repeats me. I realize then that she’s as lost as to who did it as I am. But maybe I can draw her a map.

“We were talking about someone,” I remind her, taking a step forward. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Hugo stiffen and I stop. No need to upset her guard dog. “Do you remember?”

Her blue eyes are misty as she shakes her head.

Okay, I have to give her a little more to work with. “I thought I overheard you talking to Monroe about Jameson, but you told me you were talking to her about Jonas.”

“Jonas?” Hugo says. “What does he have to do with anything?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” My words grate off my tongue as I try to hold on to gentle or encouraging—and fail.

“I don’t remember,” she says miserably.

“She just woke up,” Hugo reminds us.

If I’d just woken up from a coma after some psycho pushed me out a window, I’d be screaming his or her name until they were under arrest. But comme ci, comme ça.

“I don’t think Jonas was the one who pushed us.” There’s an apology written in her voice.

“Was he even in town?” Jameson asks and I realize I’d left my boyfriend out of my manic, conspiracy theories.

“Yeah, he wasn’t on my list either until…”

“Until what?” Hugo’s face darkens. Apparently in the war between the girl he loves and his best friend, Hugo’s already taken sides.

“Until I saw this.” I pull up the screen shot of The Dealer’s Instagram account on my phone. “He erased this but I took a picture.”

“That’s Josie,” Jameson points out in a quiet voice.

“Yeah, but she’s not the only one in the picture,” I inform them, not bothering to smother my annoyance. No one had been safe from The Dealer’s unwanted attention this summer and he’d used that to his advantage. We’d all been too distracted by analyzing the people in the photos to notice something like a reflection.

“I never saw this photo,” Hugo says slowly.

“The Dealer deleted this photo, and there’s a reason.” They pass my phone around, studying the picture. No one speaks, which is how I know that they all see exactly what I saw.

“Why is Jonas posting pictures as The Dealer?” Hugo asks.

“Who’s The Dealer?” Leighton’s confusion is excusable since she’s been in a coma.

“Someone’s been posting pictures,” I explain the whole thing to her, but it doesn’t seem like she processes it. I’ve known her long enough that I’m not certain if her slowness is the result of her injuries or her IQ. But before I can explain anymore, Hugo is on his feet.

“Where are you going?” I ask as he leans down and kisses Leighton’s head in a gesture of farewell.

“I need to talk to my best friend.” He pushes past me, and I shoot a pleading look to Jameson. He takes the hint and follows him.

“What’s happening?” Leighton cries out.