Influenced by Eva Robinson (love story books to read .TXT) 📕

Thirty-Nine

Hannah stared at Stella. Her blond hair was braided with wildflowers again. Barefoot, she was wearing one of Luke’s cat sweaters over a pair of cut-off shorts. She stood arm in arm with Luke, her expression serene.

This was who Luke was dating? Why hadn’t he said anything?

Stella pouted at Rowan. “You’re being much too loud, my love. Should we move inside? We all need to be discreet. We all know that, right?”

Hannah’s mouth opened and closed, and she pulled her gaze from Stella to Luke. But he wasn’t even looking at her. “Sorry. What? Luke? What are you doing here?”

His eyebrows rose. “What do you mean? I told you about Stella.”

She shook her head. “No, you didn’t.”

He took a step closer to her, then squeezed her shoulder. “You might’ve been very tired when I told you.”

As if she’d forget. “But… why are you here?”

“I asked him to come.” Stella was rubbing his bicep now, leaning her head against his. “He always helps me think clearly when there’s something difficult going on. And after your brownie incident, I thought we could use his help.”

“Where’s Nora?” asked Hannah, her panic rising. Something was very wrong here. “I thought you were looking after her.”

Luke held out his hands like he was trying to calm a wild beast. “Hannah, relax. She’s with my mother in Arlington. Everyone take a deep breath. Let’s not lose our heads. You’ve been struggling a lot lately, and that’s how all this happened in the first place.”

“How all what happened?”

Luke’s eyes shone with sympathy. “You know, the carelessness with the peanut butter. You’ve just been taking on too much.”

He and Stella were really certain that it was Hannah, weren’t they?

Hannah couldn’t take a deep breath, couldn’t get enough air. Luke was lying—he’d never mentioned Stella to her before.

“Okay, I’m taking a deep breath.” Hannah felt tears prick her eyes. “But you know what? I still don’t understand how I passed out that night. Maybe you all get blackout drunk regularly, but I do not. I’ve never blacked out before. Ever. And I woke up, and suddenly I’m being told I killed someone. And you’re all so certain—but he could have eaten anything. And why did no one notice that he was dying, by the way? Why did we all pass out completely like that? It’s strange.”

Stella shrugged. “It happens to everyone sometimes. And obviously, if you’re as overtired, as you always are, it’s not that unusual.”

The dismissal of Hannah’s concerns came too fast. Stella wasn’t even curious. She wasn’t curious because she already knew what had happened.

Hannah looked to Luke, expecting her Luke to come back to her, the one who made sense. But his gaze was locked on Rowan. “We’re all going to take a deep breath, right, Rowan? No one needs to be hasty and post anything online. Because you’ll ruin your life, and ours.”

“My life is already ruined, genius,” Rowan shot back. “They already think I’m guilty. Their voices live in my head. And they know I’m already rotting.”

He cocked his head. “Rowan, you’ve had a big shock, I know. And the stress of it has gotten to you. That’s why I don’t want you to make any rash decisions.” He held out his hand. “Why don’t you give me your phone so you don’t do anything impulsive.”

“Someone took Arabella’s laptop,” said Rowan. “And then Peter’s, then mine. And the two of them are dead already.” She pulled her phone away from him, clinging to it. “It doesn’t matter what I say—people will find out the truth. That I helped hide his body because I was scared it would look bad. It’s always about how I’ll look, isn’t it? But they find out the truth. They’ll find out what I’ve done. They watch every little thing, you know. Every little thing,” she spat.

Luke held out his hands again, placating. “Is this all about Peter’s bullshit?”

Hannah gaped at all of them, a pit opening in her stomach. Luke was acting like someone she didn’t quite recognize, and that sharp change of topic had her wondering what the hell he was up to. Peter’s bullshit. Where did that come from?

Slowly, she started piecing things together. Peter had had some kind of accusations about fraud at Harvard.

Dread slid over her body like an afternoon shadow.

The police had said someone turned on Arabella’s laptop at six thirty on a Sunday outside her building—exactly after Luke would have dropped off Nora.

And why had he really stopped by Stella’s house the night Peter had died? Her mind churned. She’d sensed something was different then, like Luke had wanted something from her. He had held her gaze so long, and she’d thought it was romantic. She’d thought he was trying to draw the conversation out, just to make it last longer.

Is everyone okay at the party? he’d asked. She’d thought it was a weird question, but had been so pathetically desperate for his approval that she’d convinced herself that he had a crush.

That long gaze… What if he had been looking to see if she was on her way to passing out already?

“But it doesn’t happen to everyone sometimes,” said Hannah. “Not everyone passes out. And Luke, you asked me where she lived. When you came here with Nora, you asked me where Stella lived. You were pretending you didn’t know.”

A line formed between Luke’s eyebrows. “No, I didn’t, Han.”

That ringing, higher and higher. “It isn’t normal that you never mentioned this.”

Stella tilted her head, giving her a sympathetic look. “Annie, you really do need to take better care of yourself.”

“Don’t call me that!” It came out sounding petulant.

Stella sighed. “Can we all go inside?”

Ever since the night Peter died, Hannah had been sure it was her fault. They wanted her to think that. Stella had been so insistent that it was the brownies. And what had Luke said the next day? You do seem a little overwrought, Hannah. You need to be gentle on