“Don't.”
Ronan looked back.
“What?”
“Don't touch it.”
Something in Elliot's voice made him obey. They stared at the box. Ronan pulled out his phone.
“Calling Vance.”
Elliot barely heard him. Because the box was familiar. He had bought three exactly like it months earlier. One held the mask when it arrived. One remained beneath his bed. The third had disappeared. He'd assumed he'd thrown it away. Apparently not. Ronan spoke to Vance. Elliot stared at the box. Then he noticed something. A thin white mark along the lid. Not a scratch. Writing. Small enough that Ronan hadn't seen it. Elliot stepped closer. Three letters.
E.M.
His initials. His stomach dropped. Ronan ended the call.
“She said don't touch anything.”
Elliot nodded. Ronan looked at him. Then followed his gaze. He saw the initials. Silence.
“What is that?”
Elliot didn't answer.
“Elliot.”
His heartbeat became painfully loud. Ronan looked from the box to him.
“You recognize it.”
Not a question. Elliot swallowed.
“Yes.”
Ronan's face changed.
“How?”
There it was again. The question beneath every question. How much don't I know? Elliot looked at the black box sitting between them. Then at Ronan. For the first time, he couldn't find a lie quickly enough. And Ronan saw that too.
Chapter Sixteen — Something Doesn’t Add Up
RONAN
MONDAY · 5:43 P.M.
Ronan knew Elliot was about to lie before he opened his mouth. It was in the pause. The tiny stillness that settled over him whenever he had to choose between truth and whatever version of truth he thought would keep everything under control. Ronan had started noticing that pause everywhere. He hated that he could recognize it now. The black box sat on the welcome mat between them. Small. Ordinary. Completely fucking wrong. Rain-dark afternoon light pushed across the porch from behind Ronan, catching the faint white initials scratched into the lid.
E.M.
Elliot Mercer. Ronan stared at the letters. Then at Elliot.
“You recognize it.”
“Yes.”
His voice was quiet. Too quiet.