Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 123575 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 494(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123575 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 494(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
“Dude, where’ve you been? The housing office is up my ass about clearing out your room. New students are coming in next week.”
Fuck. I’d forgotten about the Mill House situation. I’ve been too focused on Lilian, on the way her fear and desire tempt me like blood tempting a shark.
“I’ll be there in twenty,” I say, already reaching for one of Aries’s designer jackets. The costume I wear to play the golden boy.
The drive to campus is quick, but it gives me time to slip fully into character. Aries doesn’t grip the steering wheel until his knuckles whiten. He doesn’t check his mirrors for tails. Doesn’t imagine creative ways to make his stepsister scream.
Stop thinking about her.
The Mill House looms ahead—one of those pretentious Victorian mansions converted into student housing for the wealthy elite. Aries lived here for four years while I rotted in a padded room. The contrast isn’t lost on me, and I wrangle my emotions before I exit the car. Lee’s waiting on the front steps, concern etched into his features.
He’s been my brother’s best friend since freshman year. Now he’s technically mine; he just doesn’t know it.
“You look like shit,” he greets me as I approach.
Coming from anyone else, it would trigger a violent episode. But Lee’s genuine worry comes from a place of kindness, of care, and it makes my chest ache because he’s the first person to show he gives a fuck about me, even if he doesn’t know I’m not Aries.
“Thanks.” I manage Aries’s self-deprecating smile. “Been a rough few weeks.”
“Yeah, no kidding. After the whole ballroom scene, you basically disappeared.”
“Just needed some space.” It’s a vague response but good enough. Slipping past him, I head inside. The house smells like privilege—old wood, expensive carpet, legacy.
This could’ve been mine, should’ve been mine.
I can sense Lee’s presence behind me, lingering like a ghost as I walk up the stairs and head into Aries’s room. “You know I’m not mad about what happened, right? Bros before—”
“It’s whatever, man.” I cut him off.
The thing with Salem was nothing but a game. I had intentions of using her against him, of hurting him, of fucking Aries over by alienating all of his friends, but then I witnessed Lee spiraling, and I knew I couldn’t go through with it. He showed me he gave a shit when no one else had, so I showed him mercy in return. “Really. No hard feelings. It’s ancient history.”
The room is exactly as I saw it in photos during my surveillance. Exactly as I leave it every time I have to make an appearance here. Everything perfectly Aries—organized, tasteful, controlled. The life I should have had.
Time to dismantle it piece by piece.
“I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but I feel like there’s something different about you,” Lee confesses, leaning against the doorframe as I rummaging through the drawers.
Different is an understatement. If only you knew the truth. I grunt noncommittally, and focus on maintaining Aries’s precise movements while packing. My brother folds everything perfectly, even when in a rush. One of his many irritating habits that I’ve had to adopt.
“Is something going on that I don’t know about?” Lee asks.
“No.” The response is sharper than Aries would say it. I catch myself and soften my tone. “Nothing going on. I’m just...rearranging priorities. Trying to figure out what I want to do with my life.”
Lee’s concern is worn proudly, and it makes my skin itch. No one’s worried about me like this since...well, since before the boathouse. Before Aries proved loyalty to your family meant nothing. I disappear inside the closet, grab a duffel bag and return to the bed. Then I start filling it with the essentials. Aries’s belongings mean shit to me, but I can’t blow my cover, not yet. I can sense Lee watching my every move. He’s more intuitive than people give him credit for.
When I glance back at the desk, my eyes catch on something—a photograph tucked into the drawer. I reach over and pull it out. My eyes scan the picture. It’s Lilian at some charity event, looking directly at the camera with those perceptive blue eyes.
The perfect daughter. Innocent and fragile. A delicate flower that I intend to rip out of the fucking ground. Rage simmers just beneath the surface, and I barely contain it, my fingers tightening on the edge of the photo. He got everything while I rotted in that place. I grit my teeth and toss the photo in the bag.
I snatch the shoebox out of the closet, and dump the contents in the bag. Paper crinkling makes me pause, and I risk a glance at Lee, but he’s not watching my packing anymore. Newspaper clippings. It headlines about the tragic accident that took place at the Hayes family boathouse.
I skim the carefully crafted story they wrote about me, a troubled teen who was sent away for mental health treatment. How could they so easily reduce my life to carefully worded lies? I shove them into my pocket.