Page 193 of Depraved Boys

Had Ashley only targeted the kings and me, or had her maid job been part of a larger revenge plan? If so, she had probably pissed off the wrong person, but who?

Dad’s voice echoed in my skull, asking if I was blinded by lust since the answer was obvious.

I shook my head. Just because Ashley had blackmailed Prakash with evidence that linked him to the death of Corrine Gibbons, and just because her broken, battered, and bruised body was in his room, that didn’t mean he had perpetrated the assault.

My posture sagged. Now, I sounded like an idiot.

The door opened, and a male nurse poked his head inside. “Are you Ashley Evergreen’s sister?”

I gulped. “Yes?”

“The doctor wishes to ask you questions.”

I jumped out of my seat and followed him down the hallway to a room with one bed. A male doctor with salt and pepper hair stood with his back to me, typing something into a computer. Ashley lay under the covers of the hospital bed, her thin body barely making a bulge, and her face an even darker mass of bruises.

My stomach plummeted, and my heart galloped a frantic beat in my chest. Would the doctor tell me she’d suffered terrible head injuries? Dad told me boxers had them all the time.

The doctor glanced at me over his shoulder. “Willow Evergreen?”

“Y-yes?”

“Could your sister be under the influence of drugs?”

I licked my dry lips. “She used to take ecstasy during raves, and some friends of hers smoked cannabis from bongs.”

He turned back to the computer. “Anything else?”

Anything was possible with Ashley. She was close to drug-dealing scumbags like DJ Bones, but she had never opened up to me about anything else he might have supplied her.

“I’m…” I coughed to relieve my dry throat. “I’m not sure. Will she be alright?”

“I’ve scheduled scans for Ashley in the morning,” replied the doctor. “Once those results have come through, we should be able to get a better picture.” The dismissal in his tone told me the conversation was over.

I retreated to the other end of the room and wedged myself in the corner. A healthcare assistant took pity on me and brought in a plastic chair. I lowered myself into the seat, and after the doctor and his entourage left, I sent Leopold a text.

Me: What’s happening?

Leopold: Benazir went in with Kash.

Me: Why?

Leopold: He’s under 18 and needs a guardian.

Right. It wasn’t like the boys could call his parents in India. The headmistress was probably the most suitable proxy in the country.

Leopold: Is Ashley conscious yet?

Me: No. Have you heard from Seb?

Leopold: He hasn’t replied to my texts.

Nausea rippled through my insides. If Sebastian lay unconscious somewhere in the academy, they would have found him by now. I gulped. What if whoever had attacked Ashley had thrown him into a cave, like the one by the split oak?

Images of a dark figure with long, flowing hair, and a monstrously pale face flashed to the forefront of my mind. I was running through the slippery, stony ground, trying to escape. I shook off what was clearly the remnants of a nightmare and focussed on Ashley.

Her breaths rasped through a split lip, and I shook my head. The number of times I wanted to punch her in her smug face, and something like this happened.

Not even heavyweight boxers looked this bad after their fights. Dad used to watch cage fights on youtube, but even the losers of those matches didn’t look as bad as Ashley. It was almost as though a crowd of thugs attacked her with no mercy.