Page 201 of Wicked Brutal

“Fuck,” she whispers.

Cat leans closer. “What?”

Penny starts scrolling through the later appearances. “Victor’s table.” Again. “Tremblay Foundation.” Again. “He’s on the host committee.” Again. “Tremblay donor dinner.”

Kaiden leans over. “Holy shit.”

Cat looks at the screen. “So she didn’t disappear.”

Penny shakes her head. “No.”

Cat’s eyes move across the photographs. “Her world just got smaller.”

My stomach drops. Driver. Teachers. Roman. Victor. Switzerland. Every fucking thing tightening around Ally. She still comes to school. Still goes home. Still attends whatever Roman tells her to attend. Still smiles when somebody is watching. Still looks like Ally O’Toole. Her world is just getting smaller around her. One piece at a fucking time.

Xander stares at Marianne. His expression goes flat. “That’s how it happens.”

I look toward the building Bella disappeared into. Then at Iz. He’s staring at nothing. Tyler. Homecoming. She looked scared. Ashbourne. October eighteenth. Bella’s name. Ally’s. Becca’s. Three girls from the same fucking circle. Forms started within days of each other. And Bella just stood here and casually told us exactly what Victor Tremblay’s control looked like before anyone knew they should be afraid of it. Something about this picture is getting bigger. And I have the sickest feeling Bella Whelan is already in it.

“Don’t,” Iz says.

I look at him. “What?”

“Whatever the fuck you’re thinking.”

“I’m thinking she knows something.”

“She always knows something.”

“About Victor?”

“About everyone.” His jaw tightens. “It’s Bella. She collects shit. Gossip. Secrets. Scandals. Who’s fucking who. Who’s cheating. Which family is quietly falling apart before the rest of Edgewood figures it out.” Penny glances at him. Iz notices. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Penny.”

She shakes her head. “Not touching this one.”

He looks back at me. “And neither are you.”

“I didn’t say I was going to do anything.”

“You were thinking it.”

“I’m always thinking.”

“Try less.”

I look toward the doors again. “She knew exactly what happened to Marianne.”

“She remembered old gossip.”

“She remembered something none of us did. And her name is on that Ashbourne paperwork.”

His expression changes. Barely. “Leave Isabella out of this.”

There’s something about the way he says it. Not fuck her. Not who cares. Not even she’s not involved. Leave her out of it.