The fake blood, sweet and sickly, clumped against his skin. The blade, still metal, had pierced his skin. The squib must have stopped it from retreating all the way. He laid his cheek against her shoulder.

Nothing about this was funny, but relief swam over her and Lia laughed. Faith kept crying until the cops arrived and separated them all. The paramedics took Devon away despite his protests, and Lia waited at the edge of the crowd. Detective James wasn’t there yet, but they took initial statements while it was all fresh. The moment the cuffs clicked shut, Faith stopped crying. Her gaze slipped to Lia.

“Don’t worry,” Lia said. “You earned this.”

“It’s the one thing she did earn,” a voice whispered near her ear.

Devon was back, his arm bandaged.

“Maybe we should get you a real knife,” Lia said, wrapping one arm around him. “Everyone says college is more brutal than high school.”

Chapter 32

The cemetery where Abby was buried didn’t allow dogs, so Lia brought pictures of dogs instead. The end of March had come and gone quickly, and Lia couldn’t remember April, though she was pretty sure she hadn’t napped through it. Grief and panic had made a blur of everything, smearing the edges of even last year’s memories until it was all Before and After. The final day, though, was as clear as if Lia were still living it. She hadn’t been able to go near the auditorium since. Georgia had been poisoned—Faith had laced her granola bar with something toxic—but miraculously, she hadn’t died. Lia had heard that she was finally out of the hospital.

Lia had only returned to school four times since that day with Faith. All of them were mostly cruising till graduation. None of the teachers want to be that teacher and yell at someone for not working.

Apparently, the high school administration was fairly touchy about being known as Serial Killer High online, with competitive kids killing over grades. They had brought in extra counselors and therapists to work with the students, and they had agreed to let Lia finish school with relaxed hours in class. Most of her work was handled at home or at Gem’s. Gem had tried to tell the security guards what was happening in the drama room and hadn’t been believed at all until a dozen seniors started sprinting toward it and the cops were called. Gem’s parents hadn’t been as kind to the front office as Lia’s.

They probably would’ve believed Lia sooner.

“They finally stopped sending out those letters about cutting class,” Lia said, giving Abby’s shiny new headstone a sympathy pat. “I think the front office took about a month to catch up with what my counselor had arranged.”

“Caught a murderer and didn’t die,” muttered Devon. “What more do they want from you?”