Here I am in bed with him, the very scenario I’ve fantasized about since I accepted the invitation to come here, but the Icebreaker has zapped all potential for romance.

“At least you don’t think I killed her,” I say.

His face hardens. “If anyone killed her, I reckon it was Dale or Heather. Or they did it together.”

I nudge him gently to lighten the accusation I’m about to fling back. “And here I was thinking you’d killed her.” If I’m telling him that, it must mean I trust him, mustn’t it? I hope he doesn’t take that the wrong way.

Curtis laughs a hollow sort of laugh. “This has been the weirdest night.”

Do I? Trust him? I’m not sure.

His laughter dies. He glances down at his left hand and jerks it off the mattress as if he’s been burned.

“Milla?” His voice is strangled. “Did you come in here earlier?”

“What? No. Well, when we explored earlier, I might have—”

He’s staring down at the bed where his hand was. I realize what he’s looking at. Puzzled, I reach for it.

“No! Don’t touch it!”

I withdraw my hand. There, on the top section of the mattress where the pillow would have been, is a hunk of long hair, neatly snipped. White blond.

A wave of cold passes over me. Curtis lowers his head to study it, getting as close as he can without touching it. And looks up at me with haunted eyes.

“It’s not mine.” My voice shakes. “It’s too pale.”

Is someone messing with his head some more?

Or is he right? Could she actually be out there? But why not just announce her presence if so, especially to the brother she hasn’t seen in so long? My heart races. The idea that I might open a door and see her standing behind it is utterly terrifying.

I try to think. “Nobody could have known you’d pick this dorm.”

Or is there hair under all our pillows? I gulp and make a mental note to check mine when I return to my room.

Curtis is staring at the hair with horrified fascination.

“Did you leave your dorm at any point?” I say.

“Um. Once. No, twice.” He’s struggling to get words out. “I went downstairs to check the bubble. Yeah. To see if anyone was around. And when I heard the voices. Brent.”

He’s hardly coherent. There’s the time he knocked on Brent’s door too, when I was in there, but he’s forgotten about that.

If someone’s trying to make him crack, so far they’re doing a pretty good job.

CHAPTER 18

TEN YEARS AGO