“Thank you.”

“One more thing,” Jasper said. “Is that the reason why you tricked Seth into kissing you and put it on your blog? To hide your feelings for Evelyn? Or . . . or did you want to suppress them?”

“Both, I think,” she softly said. “Seth had been so kind to me when he and Evelyn had found me crying, and he was the only boy I could bring myself to kiss. I knew I could never like him or any other boy like that, but I felt like I had to at least pretend.

Because somehow I felt like everyone could tell I liked Evelyn.”

Her voice sounded like it was about to break the longer she spoke. “I was . . . I was terrified of anyone finding out. Especially my parents.”

“It’s okay, Amelia,” Seth said. “I understand.”

“No,” she whispered, tears pooling in her eyes. “It is not okay.

I almost ruined your relationship. I nearly got all of you killed. I do not deserve sympathy.”

“You’re also the reason the police found us,” I pointed out.

“Who knows what would have happened otherwise.”

Before she could answer, the door suddenly opened and Mrs. Whitworth poked her head through the door, Mr. and Mrs. Campbell looking impatient behind her.

“Are you finished yet?” she asked.

The four of us exchanged a glance and it was at that moment and without a single word uttered that I knew we were all on the same side.

“Yes,” Elle said. Her voice was clear and firm, without a trace of doubt. “Amelia should stay at Seven Hills.” Amelia’s shoulders, as well as her parents’, sagged in relief.

Her mother gave a nod before turning to Amelia. Sternly, she said, “You’re lucky. Do not disappoint us again.”

Amelia gave a weak nod.

“Mr. and Mrs. Campbell, why don’t you go ahead and find yourselves a seat in the Great Hall,” Mrs. Whitworth said, a small furrow between her brows. “Amelia will be downstairs shortly.”

Without so much as another glance at us, the two strode out into the hallway.

° ° °

Amelia exhaled a shaky breath as soon as the door fell shut behind them, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment.

“No offense,” Elle snorted. “But your parents are assholes.”

Not even Mrs. Whitworth bothered to object. Instead, she offered us a small smile, one hand lightly rubbing Amelia’s shoulder in a reassuring gesture. “Well done, you four. Now, get out of here and have fun, all right? The Winter Banquet is starting and I imagine you’ve had enough hardship for at least ten years. Go ahead!”

We didn’t need to be told twice and immediately filed out of the room, but Amelia grabbed onto my arm before I could run off. “Why did you do that?” she asked in a thin voice. “Why did you not let them expel me?”

“Because I want you to be here,” I said, gesturing at our surroundings. “I want you to be out of your parents’ reach, in a safe space where you can be yourself. It’s what everyone deserves.”