Chapter Twenty-Four

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I shut my bedroom door, even though only we were the only ones home. I leaned against the wood as Hugo paced my room. He was thinking hard, I could tell just by how he walked. He was normally calmer than this.

"What do you mean you can't go through with it?" He was frustrated. "I knew your plan would never work! I knew this would happen! But no, you had to do it your way and fall in love with the guy. You're seventeen! What do you know about love?"

I bit my lip. "He's the only one who's been there for me, completely there. He gets me, and he's the best to me."

"He feeds you what you want to hear. He's just a dumb jock!"

"I'm sorry, Hugo! You can't just expect me to take someone's life! I don't even know what he'll do that's so horrible someone decided to have him murdered. I bet you know."

"And if I do?"

"I deserve to know. It's not fair to just have one person decide who to kill. That's playing God." Hugo quit pacing and I started. "I'm just so confused. The old me, the me before everything, would have never agreed to anything like this."

I sat down on the floor, almost ready to cry.

Hugo took a deep breath and sat down beside me. "You're not the first to react this way." He put an arm around me, pulling my body close to his. "It takes a whole different mindset that few have naturally to do what you do. I thought... I thought that you would be strong enough to do it. I had so much hope for you. I was wrong. And I'm so sorry."

I took a deep, shaky breath. "I'm strong."

"I don't doubt it, just not strong for this."

I shut my eyes, a tear rolling down my cheek. Hugo's lips pressed into my cheek, stopping the tear from falling. He laughed. "I know it's not really okay to kiss someone who's got a boyfriend. I do hope you accept my apology."

I laughed too.


How long do I have? I texted Boss on my Eota phone.

I never got a text back.


I scrolled in my phone to Naos, Hugo. I sent a text: what will he do?

I expected silence from Hugo.

I'll tell you tomorrow, promise.

I doubted the promise.


When tomorrow came, I was not informed. I knew I couldn't trust Hugo. I didn't want to talk to Ethan, at all. I knew I'd be different around him. Jude would be no comfort, and Anna is an adult, not a friend to me.

I feel very alone in the world.

I texted Hugo on the Eota phone: you've lied to me Naos.

I know. I'm sorry. Tomorrow. I swear.

I didn't have much faith in him.


Wednesday, I found a newspaper in the passenger's seat of my car. I drove to school and looked at it there.

The headline read in big bold letters: EIGHTEEN YEAR OLD ARRESTED FOR SCHOOL SHOOTING

The next, in slightly smaller writing: TOWN IN SHOCK AFTER MASS MURDER OF ELEMENTRY AGED CHILDREN

The next: MOTHER HAD NO CLUE, BROTHER SCARED.

Under the main headline was an article. I read through it, the heat inside the car fogging up the windows. It was like I was separate from the world.

It started like any other day for the town of ­­­Northchester. The elementary school had no idea what was to come. At twelve fifteen, March 2th, eighteen year old high school student Ethan Rues came into the class room of younger brother, Tate Rues, and open fired on the children there.

The motive has yet to be released by the police, but rumors say that Tate had been bullied for years and always came to his brother for comfort. Ethan aimed for the kids Tate has said bullied him.

Ten children (only five of which were the "targeted") are dead, five others injured. Multiple teachers have been hospitalized as well.

"Ethan's always been a normal kid," Mother Emily Rues says, "I'd never in a million years think he'd ever do something as horrible as this."

Police are looking in to Ethan's mental stability. Girlfriend, Alice Colts, is silent about it all. Brother, Tate, is too shocked to speak up.

Ethan will go on trial as soon as possible.

I dropped the paper, my heart all the way in my stomach. I took deep breaths, trying to count the seconds to calm down. Tears were running down my face and I felt absolutely sick. I was shaking all over.

My phone buzzed, a text from the criminal himself, Ethan.

I ignored it and grabbed my backpack. I stood up out of my car, the cold air biting my cheeks as I approached the school. There, in front of the doors, stood Hugo, stone-faced. His eyes were sharp and harsh, his hair dishelved. His arms were crossed over his chest.

"Do you understand now, Alice?" He asked as I approached. "Do you see why we chose him?"

I bit my lip. My eyes felt cold and my cheeks too. The newspaper was still in my hand. I shoved it into Hugo's arm. "I've still got time. Ethan can still change."

I walked inside the school, trying to stop my crying.

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