“Fuck you,” the guy said.
Griff spun around and caught sight of the very large man. He was young, face budding with zits, but big enough to do some damage.
“Is there a problem?” Griff asked, not in that tough-guy way but earnestly.
The guy stood there sizing him up. Luna had a bad feeling. She yanked Griff’s arm. Told him they had to go. Now. They rushed upstairs and locked the door to Owen’s room behind them. They performed one final check of the closets, dresser, under the bed, took the last two boxes down the stairs, and loaded them into the car. The large man and a few of his friends were loitering near the driveway, watching them. As they approached, Luna leaned into the car and grabbed a tiny canister from her purse. Her palm wrapped around it, index finger hovering on the trigger. Luna, arm outstretched, waved the threat in front of her.
“Have you ever been pepper-sprayed?” she said, lunging forward, forcing their retreat.
Griff circled the car, opened the passenger door, and whispered to Luna, “Get in the car now.”
She backed into the passenger seat, waving her arm back and forth. She only released her grip on the canister when she closed the door. Griff jumped into the driver’s seat, hit the locks, started the engine, and quickly pulled out of the driveway, lead-footing it as soon as they hit the road.
As they drove off campus, Griff eyed Luna. She was still clutching the small bottle.
“What is that?” he asked.
Luna turned the nozzle, opened her mouth, and pulled the trigger. “Breath spray.”
A minute earlier, Luna had been another person—tense, feral, capable of something Griff couldn’t begin to imagine. He wondered if she could just put it in a box, like a sinister ventriloquist’s dummy. It both impressed and unnerved him, which explained why, a few weeks later, when Owen thought Luna might be trying to kill him, Griff had a moment’s pause.
* * *
—
While Owen stayed at the Berkshires home, Luna returned to campus life. She was a pariah by association. She wondered how much worse it would get once her true identity became known. She waited for it, bracing herself, always prepared. But it never happened. As it turned out, there were only three people—alive, at least—in Deerkill, other than Owen, who could have broadcast her secret: Casey, Mason, and Detective Oslo.
Detective Miles Oslo made a call early on not to share Luna’s backstory with the Hayes parents. They’d seen the text messages their daughter sent and questioned the detective about what this “secret” was, but Oslo assured them it was unrelated. This didn’t satisfy Mr. and Mrs. Hayes, who threatened to hire an investigator. Oslo had a split second to think of something. He didn’t have time to weigh the ethics or the consequences. He didn’t enjoy lying to the parents of a dead girl, but he also knew that if Mrs. Hayes learned the secret that her daughter had threatened to expose, she’d likely find another suspect. Owen’s life was already uprooted. Oslo didn’t want that to happen to the girl. Not again.
“I’m not going to tell you what the secret was. All I can say is that it was not the kind of secret you kill over,” Oslo said.
“How do you know?” Scarlet’s mother asked.
Oslo was tired of fighting Mrs. Hayes. He had told her repeatedly that Luna was alibied for the night. Still, Mrs. Hayes kept pressing. So Oslo made up a secret. He told the Hayes parents that Scarlet found out that Luna was gay and she was determined to let Owen know, because she thought that Owen was in love with Luna. Scarlet’s mother questioned whether that was motive enough for Luna to kill Scarlet. Oslo said that he thought it was an unlikely motive and, again, reminded Mrs. Hayes that Luna was alibied. Resigned to the unsatisfying conclusion, and embarrassed that their daughter could be so cruel, the Hayes parents left Markham, never to return. They did, however, receive a significant settlement for their daughter’s accidental death, because Black Oak Bluff was part of the campus and there was no signage to discourage nighttime hiking.
* * *
—
Luna, despite her tendencies toward isolation, had found college more socially rewarding than she expected. Her world expanded significantly during the first two years. Luna had friends; she threw parties; she had fun. After Scarlet, it pared down suddenly, like the very end of a chess game. It was obvious who her friends were, because she had only three of them—Owen, Casey, and Mason. The latter two were now a couple and would remain so for as long as she’d know them.
Casey and Mason took a risk by staying friends with Luna and Owen. They weren’t ostracized on Luna’s level, but their world shrank too. Then it expanded again, and their college experience returned to something closer to normal. But Markham would always be a hostile place for Luna, though not once did she consider transferring. Being ostracized was status quo for her. She’d survive.
Even from the safe confines of his family’s retreat, Owen wasn’t surviving quite as well. During those first few weeks after he left Markham, he fell into a quicksand of depression. Owen killed most days in his bedroom playing Grand Theft Auto and taking extended naps. Griff cooked all the meals. Owen would get a plate, grunt, and return to his room, which was becoming more and more rank. Whenever Luna visited, Owen told her not to come, that she could mail his school assignments to him. In fact, most things could be emailed, but she kept coming back. When she was there, Griff was even more of a dick about making Owen leave his room. One time, Luna brought tabs of acid and suggested they take it. Griff got pissed off, started lecturing her about some guy in Pink Floyd who went insane. Then he confiscated the drugs. When Griff was hiding the contraband, Owen asked Luna what she was thinking.
“I heard it helps with depression,” she said.
“I’m not depressed,” he said.
“What are you, then?”
“Maybe you shouldn’t visit anymore.”
“Is that what you want?”