Page 264 of Depraved Boys

My brows drew together. “I don’t think—”

“Don’t draw it out. If I don’t hear the end, I’ll go mad with not knowing.”

“Alright.” Clearing my throat, I broke away from him and read out the next part.

Something inside me died the day storm clouds eclipsed the sun. A constant and relentless rain caused blight to spread through my body. The Bitch was right. I’m a waste of a life, a shambling disgrace, and I should just kill myself.

Maybe if I died, the sun will come out. Perhaps once I’ve gone, the sun will remember how it used to reflect its gentle light on my petals. Maybe.

After reading the last word, a noisy gasp ripped from Cormac’s throat that jerked his upper body forward. He slid off the edge of the mattress onto his knees. “She really did it.”

“Cormac.” The words died in my throat. What could I say after ripping open a partially healed wound? Sorry just wasn’t enough. “This wasn’t your fault.”

His shoulders shook with silent sobs, and I placed the papers on the mattress and knelt at his side. I cradled him to my chest and let him cry.

“We all let her down,” he rasped.

I hugged him tighter. From Corrine’s diary entries, Mrs. Benazir and Miss Claymore had let Corrine down by not offering her any support that didn’t consist of reminders that her grades were slipping.

Over the fourth and fifth years, Prakash had tried to prove his love to her, only for Corrine to twist their final encounter into an accusation of rape. I didn’t want to think ill of the dead, so I pushed aside my judgment on her twisted act. But it was no wonder Prakash no longer wanted to associate with Corrine.

“Didn’t you read what she said?” I stroked Cormac’s hair. “You were the only person at her side during the fallout. She loved you so much and knew you’d done everything you could to help her.”

“She’s at peace now, I suppose.” He gazed up and sniffled at me through watery eyes.

As I nodded, two fat tears rolled down my cheeks. “Right now, I’ll bet she’s looking down at you, proud of what you’ve become.”

“Do you think so?”

My voice was choked with tears, and I forced out the words, “Yes. No one in this academy works so hard and so selflessly to protect others.”

“But I could do more. I—”

“Stop being so hard on yourself.” I gave his shoulder a hard squeeze. “You’re a student, just like everyone else, but you still work harder than the teachers to protect others.”

Cormac didn’t reply.

“On top of that, you’re upholding the grade averages that keep the academy at the top of the Elite Register. Mrs. Benazir’s the one who needs to do more.”

“Thanks.” He stood. After pulling me to my feet, he stared at a point on his threadbare rug. “I haven’t been frank with you.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I translated the diary intending to hand it to the police and prove that Kashaayah killed my sister and staged it as a suicide.”

My response was a grim nod. I’d worked that out ages ago and accepted his help because my faith in Prakash’s innocence had been unshakable.

“But he’s innocent,” Cormac said. “You can give the decoded diary to the police. It’s a long suicide note that charts what brought her to the final decision to kill herself.”

My mouth fell open. I would have asked if he was sure, but we needed this vital piece of evidence, and I wasn’t about to change his mind. Instead, I threw my arms around Cormac. “Thank you.”

“That doesn’t mean I forgive him for pigging my sister,” he muttered into the side of my neck.

“I understand.”

Cormac gave me a brief pat on the back, his way of saying the hug was over. As I drew back, he wrapped his hand around my bicep. “Be careful. He didn’t kill my sister, but I still don’t trust any of those wankers to do right by you.”

“I will.”