“For something to happen between us. What I’m saying is that I’d love to spend more time with you, but I don’t want you to feel pressured. Last night was—” He stopped talking and glanced over to his left, and she pulled back to see Conrad halting on the top step of the staircase. Conrad’s eyes swept from Spencer’s face to Olivia’s, then down to the way Spencer cradled her in his arms.

Olivia stepped back, and Spencer dropped his arms, and she knew they looked as if they’d been busted. A giant ball of awkwardness cleared the net and splatted at their feet.

Damn it.

Conrad glanced away and then brought his attention back to her. “I turned off the lights downstairs and checked the locks.”

Olivia pulled her gaze away. “Thanks. I was just . . .” She inched around Spencer, retreating toward the bathroom as quickly as she could. The therapist inside her said to calmly address the situation. The very evident chicken inside her screamed, Abort! Abort!

Both Neve and Chase had established that she was, in fact, a chicken, so she rolled with it, shouting a hasty “Good night” before closing the bathroom door.

She sagged against the cool wood and caught her reflection in the mirror. She looked like she felt—unraveled.

Her life unspooled, slipping from the roll so quickly she wasn’t sure if she could catch up. Pressing her hands to her face, she sucked in a deep breath and then released it before running some water and taking care of her nightly bathroom ritual. After she’d flossed her teeth twice and dabbed on a second layer of eye cream, she cautiously opened the door and peeked out.

All clear.

Sighing with relief, she hopped like a silent bunny to the room she shared with her sister and jetted inside. Maybe Neve could set aside her view of Conrad and help her figure out what she should do.

Neve sat cross-legged in the center of the bed and flinched as Olivia exploded into the room. When Olivia closed the door a bit too hard, her sister glanced up. In her lap was the sketchbook. “What the fuck is this?”

Olivia pressed both hands onto the back of the door. “Chase found that under the mattresses in the bunk room a week ago. She’d forgotten about it and handed it to me a few minutes ago.”

A feeling of foreboding rose inside Olivia because Neve looked similar to someone who’d seen a horrible accident. Her mouth hung open slightly, her eyes unblinking, her hands useless beside her. “Have you looked at it?”

“Not yet. Chase said she thought it belonged to Marley.” Olivia lifted herself from her slumped position and moved toward the bed. “What’s wrong?”

Neve slid the book off her lap and angled it toward Olivia.