Page 258 of Depraved Boys

Walking behind the black-clad officers surrounding Ashley was like being in the back of a funeral procession. The next time I would see her, it would probably be at her murder trial.

Leopold stepped out from the kitchen doorway, and Sebastian raced around the table. Both stared at me as though waiting for an eruption of grief.

It didn’t come.

“Willow,” said Sebastian. “Are you alright?”

“I cried my last tear over Ashley a long time ago.” My voice sounded distant, my insides hollow.

“But you’ve got to be feeling something,” said Leopold.

“Numb, mostly,” I replied. “And a bit relieved.”

Leopold wrapped his large hands around my shoulders and fixed me with a concerned, aquamarine gaze. “Really?”

I nodded. “Let’s lock up the cottage and return to the academy.”

The boys continued staring at me until I closed my eyes and heaved out a long sigh. “Maybe it’s a delayed reaction.”

Leopold placed the back of his hand on my temple, as though checking my temperature. “But you’re so calm.”

“Have you ever seen me fall apart?” I asked.

“No, but—”

“Leave her alone.” Sebastian wrapped an arm around my waist. His touch relaxed the band of tension that had wound around my chest and stomach. “Everyone deals with shock differently.”

While Leopold locked up the cottage, Sebastian walked me to the street. The morning sun bathed my skin, and the mingled floral scents of wildflowers from Mrs. Ochill’s garden filled my nostrils, and I turned to find all the neighbors huddled around the old woman’s doorstep, presumably talking about Ashley’s arrest. They turned around to stare, but none of them approached.

Leopold rushed ahead to open the back door. I lowered myself into the leather seat and stared at the house. Uncle Trevor’s words echoed in my skull—preserve the living, not the dead—but they felt now hollow. What more could I have done for Ashley? Most of her grievances were things I couldn’t change.

The memory of a large glass object crashing on my skull replayed itself over and over until I closed my eyes and felt the pain of the heavy blow and remembered the shards tearing through my skin.

Ashley had told me a story about losing a fallopian tube to an ectopic pregnancy. Apparently, she had fallen in love with Mr. Floo, our algebra teacher, who she claimed was more interested in raving about my math skills than in sleeping with her. Then Mom and Dad had uprooted us from London to move to Carlisle. Had that been the source of her hatred of me, or was it something deeper?

“Willow?” Leopold’s voice cut through the fog. From his urgent tone, it wasn’t the first time he’d called my name or even the third.

“Just thinking,” I murmured. “I’m fine.”

“You were spaced out for a while. I wondered where you’d gone.”

“Old memories.” I stared into the skirt of my linen summer dress.

“My sister, Beatrice, is a pain in the ass, but nothing compared to Ashley. If she did a tenth of the shit Ashley did to me, I would drown her in the River Caldew.”

I smiled. “Good to know.”

Leopold scooted toward me in the back seat and pulled me into a comforting embrace. The feel of his heart beating against my ear sent life through the numbness of Ashley’s arrest, and I gazed up into his concerned, blue eyes.

“Wills, it’s alright to be upset.” He brushed a lock of hair off my face. “Despite everything, she’s still family.”

I shook my head. “Family implies love and loyalty. Ashley wasn’t capable of either.”

With a sigh, he tightened his embrace. “I suppose you’re right. You, Seb, and Kash are the only family I need.”

“I’ll call Mr. Pinkerton’s office on Monday,” said Sebastian from the driver’s seat. “Ashley’s arrest might change how the Crown Prosecution Service views Kash’s case.”

Hope sparked in my chest. “Do you think so?”