“Okay, then let’s tackle this one piece of missing information at a time,” I say. “And fast, before someone else gets killed. Pippa should be coming soon to turn down the beds and refill the water. You stay here and get her to tell you everything about that glass. If we both leave, we’ll miss our chance to talk to her.”

He looks at me questioningly. “Both leave? And where are you going?”

I swallow. “To find Matteo,” I say, fighting to keep my voice calm.

He looks at me for a long moment like he’s trying to decide something, or maybe he’s registering my fear and that I’m doing it despite that.

“Be careful,” he says so genuinely that my stomach flutters.

There’s a beat of silence and I nod.

I turn around, grab my cloak from the armoire, and exit into the hallway. The cold air and the idea of confronting Matteo send a shiver down my back.

Minutes later, I’m standing in front of Matteo’s room, my hand hovering to knock on the door and my heart racing. The only problem is, if I knock and he slams the door in my face, I’m screwed.

From down the corridor comes the sound of boots on stairs and I don’t hesitate—I lift the latch and walk right into his room.

Matteo’s on his couch, staring at his fireplace. “Get out,” he says without even turning toward me. The sight of him makes my nervousness soar. I take two more steps but don’t dare move far from the door.

“I’ll get out if you tell me what you know about me.” My voice sounds louder and my tone more forceful than I thought it would.

He turns to me and for a brief second he looks surprised. “I’m sick of playing games with you, November. Save us both the energy of getting angry and turn around and leave,” he says, and the disgust I usually detect when he’s speaking to me isn’t there. He almost seems worn out.

I’ve only got one shot at this. “You don’t trust me. But consider this: Layla does. And you know better than I do how much Layla cared about Stefano. Do you really think she would trust someone who killed her boyfriend? Of course she wouldn’t.”

I watch as Matteo clenches his hands and then releases them again. It seems like he’s trying to keep himself from getting worked up.

“Ever since Stefano’s murder we’ve been trying to figure out why Charles attacked your friend. Layla, Ash, me—we’ve been sneaking around this creepy castle, putting ourselves at risk trying to help.” My voice becomes more insistent. “The least you could do is stop making things harder!”

Matteo gets up off the couch so fast that I take a step backward. He crosses the room in a few long strides.

“How dare you come into my room and tell me what I’m doing or not doing? If this whole situation is anyone’s fault, it’s yours,” he says, and his broad chest rises and falls quickly. “What made you think you could just walk into this school, an exact replica of your mother? You can’t be stupid enough to think no one would notice. Anyone who knew her recognized you immediately. This is your mess!”