Page 166 of Coveted

Clara and Juliette have kindly made themselves scarce for my talk with Lucan.

Talk.

It sounds so stuffy and serious.

I don’t really want to talk with him. After everything I’ve been through—that we’ve been through—I want him to wrap his arms around me and promise never to let go.

“Hi,” I say when I open the door.

His guarded expression is unreadable, which makes my heart sink.

“Hello,” he says.

I step back. “Come in.”

Halfway to my bedroom, I change my mind and veer to the armchairs by the crackling fireplace instead.

Before he arrived, it seemed like a no-brainer that we would talk in my room. But now that he’s here, all icy eyes and black clothes and sharp lines, my bedroom feels too personal for the detached energy he’s bringing.

He settles into the armchair next to mine.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, the firelight accentuating his features.

His arm drapes over the chair. He flicks his eyes around the room before resting them on me, as if he’s checking for threats. He’s been doing that a lot lately.

Though he seems mostly composed, his right hand flexes compulsively every few seconds.

The dark circles under his eyes have existed since I awoke in hospital. I wonder if he’s slept properly since then.

“Better,” I say. “The bruises have faded.”

“Do you have any pain?” he asks.

I shake my head. “None.”

We stare into each other’s eyes, and I see a thousand thoughts passing through his. I wish he’d tell me any of them.

“Our people decoded Parker’s journal.” Lucan rubs his jaw. “This past summer, he got access to Hannah’s social media accounts and found messages from Worthington.”

“What did the messages say?” I ask.

“Not much. Worthington was careful. He mostly wrote about college stuff. But Parker had a hunch.” Lucan’s voice becomes heavy, like he’s wrestling with the weight of shame on top of guilt. “Parker thought no one would believe him without evidence, because of his drinking. So he planned to record a confession with his phone during the Founder’s Run. Worthington must’ve realized what he was doing though.”

Remembering, I nod slowly. “Worthington didn’t say a word in the forest. The only voice I heard was Parker’s.”

“I feel like I failed. I didn’t save my cousins and I barely saved you.”

My voice softens. “You did save me though. You found me.”

“I followed the trail of feathers you left.”

“And you had the tracking app.”

He studies my face, like he’s trying to figure out if I’m angry about him using it. “Yeah. I kept it active, just in case.”

“I know.” Sheepish, I smile. “I would’ve told you to get rid of it if I really wanted it gone.”

“Okay. I’m glad then.”