I don’t answer, because I have no idea. What power do I hold over Gravelle? Absolutely none at all. He holds all the cards, and he knows it.

“Don’t hurt him,” I whisper. “He’s never done anything but try to please you. If you do, I’ll tell the world what you did to us last year. Holding Pru hostage. Killing that clone of Ollie so you could traumatize the Wards. Make them believe their son had died.”

Gravelle sizes me up. “Speaking of Oliver… I don’t suppose he’d have any interest in seeing your email to Levi—would he? Because I’d happily forward it along. If you’d like.”

I freeze. Forward that note to Ollie? I sneak another look at him, my pulse thudding. No, no, no. He can’t see what I wrote. I haven’t told Ollie about Levi, except to say we were friends. All summer I struggled with how to explain that Levi’s arrival at Darkwood rewrote my entire narrative. It’s impossible, and it would only hurt him.

“No. Don’t send him that.”

“I didn’t think so,” Gravelle answers silkily.

“Put Levi on the phone,” I demand.

“That’s impossible.”

I feel my stomach lurch. Sweat forms on the back of my neck, and I feel faint. Impossible? Why—because Levi’s hurt? Or worse, dead?

“What have you done to him?”

“Always so dramatic. It’s not what I’ve done. It’s Levi. He’s asked me to tell you not to contact him again. I know this won’t be easy to hear. Such is life… He doesn’t want to see you. Now, or ever.”

“I don’t believe you,” I snarl.

“Levi’s made it clear he’ll be quite content finishing up his senior year here, with me. Darkwood never was a good fit for him. He felt he was always in Oliver’s shadow.”

“But…but…” I stammer.

“But what about you?” Those narrow lips curl up into the first full smile I’ve seen on his face since he called me. “Must I spell it out? You were never a good fit for him, Eden. And if you need a reminder that contacting him is not in your best interests, or his—check your email. Until next time.” He grins at me, and his face vanishes from my plum screen. The call cuts off.

Hands trembling, heart in my throat, I’m about to ask Dash to open Gravelle’s email when I hear voices outside the car. I look up from my plum, past the leaves and branches that brush against my window on our journey up the hill to school. We should be pulling into the circular drive right now. Why are we stopped?