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All the money in the world could not save my mother.
She was dying. I knew this as I secretly watched her lie in an armrest. No one else but my father knew her cancer had returned. Tyson, Shannon, they all had no idea. Ever since I found out, I haven't spoken or even looked at her.
No money in the world could change my mother's will. She'd rather succumb to cancer than return to chemotherapy. I hated her for that. I hated her for refusing treatment because it meant we weren't worth living for.
I watched as a tear slipped down her cheek. Mother clutched a necklace to her heart and I knew she was grieving for Grace. Despite my mother's efforts, she never loved Shannon like she loved Grace. I knew why. I've known for a long time. Shannon was a product of my father's infidelity. Her bright blue eyes gave it away.
Mother was silent in her grief but she grieved deeply. She grieved because the universe had slowly taken everything away from her. Her husband's love for her, her daughter's life, and now her own life.
That was the price of being a Dragomir. You lose everything but money in the end.
x
I silently watched Grace's funeral ceremony. She was gone. Grace, who never cared about anything but honor.
They say death changes people. My mother now wilted in bed every day. My father wasn't even in the country half the time. Shannon grieved, but she was never affected as much as Tyson, who spiraled. Mason was now always drunk or high. He was sober now, though, as he stood by her coffin. I knew this was his self-inflicted punishment. Staying sober sliced at his heart. He blamed himself.
Bianca softly touched my arm. "I'm sorry."
I flinched away from her. I knew exactly what she felt for me but I also knew what Tyson felt for her. "Is Tyson okay?"
She sighed, hurt in her eyes from my subtle rejection. "No. He-" she winced, "He hates you."
I expected as much. He blamed me for Grace's death. Tyson blamed me because he said my friends drove her to die. Grace was so strong, he said, she'd never suicide. She'd never do that. Those were his words.
"He doesn't believe the suicide note," Bianca told me quietly. "She said Grace would never suicide."
I examined the look in her eyes. "You believe that too."
"She was my closest friend," Bianca shrugged, but I saw the clear confliction in her eyes. Grace was practically her sister but Bianca was also a blue blood and the first rule of being a blue blood was to never turn on your own. "I knew things about her even you don't know."
"Bianca," I said, almost warningly as I caught the implication of her words. "What do you know that I don't."
"Avery," she shook her head. "You know I can't say anything."
I stared at her. She watched back, her eyes searching mine in desire. Bianca never denied her affection for me. As she reached over to touch the bruise on my cheekbone, which Tyson gave me after he found out about Grace's death, I gripped her wrist. I could never love her like that, even if my brother weren't in love with her.
"Enough," I said as evenly as I could. "You know how Tyson feels about you."
"No," Bianca snapped, dropping her hand as if I had burned her. "No, I don't and I don't care. Avery-"
"I know you've heard the rumors," I reminded her, emotionlessly. "I'm getting engaged to Satin Queens."
Her eyes fired up in anger. "You don't love her. You don't even care about her."
"I don't," I agreed, thinking through the choices I had. "But I won't treat her badly. I'd never cheat. It's just marriage."
"You're acting like it's a business deal," Bianca hissed, wounded and angry for me. "It's not fair. You should marry someone you love..." Her voice broke down. "Or someone who loves you very much."
Gently, I said, "You deserve that too."
"Then it's someone else." Pain entered her eyes. Suddenly, she asked, "Is it Sasha? Do you love her?"
My eyes closed as the girl from the tunnels resurfaced in my memories. A part of me would never forget her presence. She was there for me when no one else would. I've never felt so understood and I've never even seen this girl. She was the only person in the world who had become my friend purely because she liked me for me. Not for my name, my family, or how I looked. Just me. I never knew that years of letters being exchanged would lead to her becoming a part of me I consistently searched for. No matter how hard I tried, I could not get rid of her.
I would search for her my entire life and even if I met her for only a moment, it would be worth it.
"No," I told Bianca, opening my eyes. "It's not Sasha."
Bianca nodded, swallowing hard as she accepted this. "Grace... the night she died, she told me she had to take care of something. She said something about Satin."
I watched as she left, tears falling down her cheeks. Bianca was hiding something from me. For the next few weeks, whenever Satin sidled up to me, I couldn't look at her without feeling a crawling disgust. Weeks later, Bianca and Satin had a falling out. Tyson and Bianca dropped to one of the lowest cadres, both refusing any contact with me.
It was when I finally examined Grace's suicide note did I realize something was wrong.
The words weren't written in her handwriting.
That was when my suspicions were confirmed. Grace didn't suicide out of heartbreak. My eyes slanted towards Satin, who smiled to me seductively, and then to all the people I called friends. They watched me, as they have been since Grace's death. I didn't know why they watched me but now I knew. They were watching to figure out if I knew.
They wanted to know if I had figured out Grace was killed by them.
x
On Gabriella Jontas' birthday, I was the last one to visit her when she was alive.
I watched as one by one, blue bloods trickled in and out of the room Ella was in. The same questions rolled around in my mind. I needed answers and only she had them.
It was late when I slinked into the room, after disabling all the footage. I heard another voice as I edged near the doorway of one of the rooms inside the suite.
"Cole," Ella begged, desperation coloring her tone. "Don't break up with me. Please. Cole, I need you-"
"You need my protection," Cole corrected, his words as cold as ice. He hated liabilities and this was what Ella had become. A liability. "I told you to not cross the line. I warned you, Ella, but what did you do instead? You sauntered across the line thinking you were going to win your little game."
"Cole," she whimpered, sensing that he had long slipped away from her control. "Please. I won't do it again."
"Again?" Cole chuckled, remorseless. "Goodbye, Ella."
I ducked into the other room as Cole made his way out decisively. It was then a hysterical laugh bubbled out of Ella. She said, giggling, "Don't forget what I have on you. Oh, how would you feel if I released everything I know about all of you?"
Cole was silent but only for a moment. "If you could, you would have done it by now. But then you'd ruin your family's name with your involvement, wouldn't you?"
"I'm a Jontas," she snapped. "The name is unknown."
"Not that name," Cole smiled. It was the smile he used when he knew something other people didn't. Everyone collected something. Cole collected secrets. He mocked, "Your other name, Gabriella Jontas."
Only when the shut close did I step out of the room to see Ella silently crying. Her forehead was slick with blood and sweat. A minor injury. I thought of Shannon and Clara Jane fleeing the room with blood on their hands. Hmm...
"I knew you'd come," Ella let out a hiccup, then a humorless chuckle. "Of course you'd come."
I watched her, analyzing her state. She had to be drunk and high, but the effects seemed to be wearing off. She was sobering up and her eyes grew emptier by the second. "You have answers, don't you?"
She flickered a smile to me as she clumsily made her way on her feet. Ella stumbled in heels as she tried to take a seat. As she tripped, I lunged to catch her. She laughed again, falling into the sofa, before her laugh dissolved into a sob.
"Grace," Ella whispered, the name piercing my heart. "You're here to find out about her."
"You know." A statement, not a question.
"Not just her," Ella nodded, blinking slowly. "Azalea."
My heart stopped for a beat. I knew it. My suspicions were finally confirmed. Ella Jontas was not who she said she was. She knew things that she shouldn't.
"The question is," Ella gazed at me, calculating even now, "Who do you care more about to know first?"
I almost said Azalea but I caught myself. I knew what the right thing to do was. "Grace," I choked out, knowing I may never find out the truth about Azalea. Still, it was the right thing to do.
"So noble," Ella smiled wearily, though her eyes were bitter. "I'll do you a favor and tell you about Azalea first." She waited for me to protest but I couldn't bring myself to. "It seems that you never bought Clara Jane's lie, did you?"
"It would have been convincing if she didn't answer a question wrong," I murmured, taking a seat across from her. "The question is, did you tell her about Azalea or did she tell you about Azalea?"
Ella didn't react. It was as if she expected this. She reached for the platter of food set on the coffee table in front of her. It was a platter of fruits and nuts. Slowly, as if to torture me, she popped in chili-roasted peanuts. I waited as patiently as I could before she spoke.
"Both," she told me, after swallowing. "I knew some things, she knew some things."
"What?"
"You're asking the wrong question," Ella informed me, greedily guarding her secrets. I should have guessed she'd never reveal the whole truth to me. "You should ask if she's still alive."
"You know," I realized, gripping my knuckles tight. "Did you find her while you were trying to find leverage over me? You must have." I shook my head. "But it's impossible for you to find out her identity. I've tried but everything has been protected to maximum security. It's as if she doesn't exist."
"It must kill you," Ella said, softly, her eyes drifting away, "She was right here."
I stood at her confession, confusion and anger filling me. "What did you say?"
Ella seemed startled for a moment before she burst into laughter. I had no idea if she drank alcohol but either way, she was drunk. Drunk on something. Alcohol or perhaps power. "How does it feel, Avery? To be powerless?"
"You're never going to tell me," I shook my head in the realization. "You never planned to tell me."
"Why should I?" Ella snapped, rage flickering all over her. "You've never cared about anything but the moment I even bring up Azalea or Grace, you're suddenly the most emotional man in the world. You watched when they tormented me. You watched as I did everything I could to trap Cole into a relationship. That's all you do. Watch."
I was still watching her destroy herself.
"You let me," she whispered, and suddenly all I saw was a girl who wanted approval, validation, and some love. She was more than a bully, someone who desperately grappled for high school popularity. "You let them do the things they do because you don't care. How many lives have they ruined? How much cruelty did they commit to? Too much. You watched them do it and that makes you just as bad as them."
I didn't say anything. My mind was struggling to grasp the little bits of information of Grace and Azalea she fed me while figuring out Ella right now. Something was different with her. There was a sort of resignation in her eyes. Something was going to happen, but I didn't know what.
"My mother despises me," Ella stared down at her fingers. "My father acts like I don't exist. My brother is awful. I don't have any real friends. I use people selfishly. I treat my sister, the only person who loves me unconditionally, awfully because I'm jealous of her. My boyfriend-" she corrected herself. "My ex wanted me for my body, not me. I can barely sleep at night because I still have nightmares because of Grace. I changed myself just so I could be a blue blood but now I don't even know who I am."
"Ella-"
"How did I become this way?" she asked me, quietly, "How did it become this way?"
"Sleep it off," I said, suddenly, too afraid of Ella's current state to pry for more answers. "Whatever drug you took. Just sleep it off and you'll feel better tomorrow."
"Tomorrow..." Ella was quiet as she inspected me. "You would have loved her the way she deserves. I- I owe her too much. I wish I listened to her earlier. I wish- I wish I never met any of you. I miss her. I wish I didn't tell her to leave. What I'll leave her is selfish... it's manipulative, I know that..."
"Who?" She was rambling now. "What are you talking about? Leave what?"
"I'm sorry," she was trembling now, fear seeping into her. I didn't understand. "I'm sorry about Grace. I really am. I- I wish I could... take it... back..."
"What aren't you telling me?" I asked sharply, sensing the wrongness of all of this. My eyes latched onto her hand. There was paper crumpled in her fingers. "What did you do?"
"I hate all of you," Ella whispered, her chest suddenly heaving faster than usual. Her eyes drooped. "I... hate all of you enough to do this..."
"Do what?" I demanded, unable to comprehend what was happening. Something was wrong. Something was so wrong.
Ella was shaking violently now. Her hand clutched her heart. Sweat dripped down her forehead. Her eyes held mine in a way I could never forget. She gasped for breath as she said, "After tonight, you'll all live with the knowledge that all of you drove me to this state."
She was having a heart attack. I pieced it together too late and as I lunged to do something to save her, she only shook her head in resignation.
"I hope my suicide weighs on your consciences forever... You all... deserve it..."
"Ella!" I grasped her shoulders, watching in horror as she could no longer breathe. Sleeping pills. She took enough sleeping pills to fall asleep forever. It triggered a heart attack. "I'll call the hospital. I'll-"
Her eyes met mine before they turned lifeless. "I deserve this, but you all deserve it more."
We did kill her, at least, some part of her. We drove her to this state. I will hold onto the guilt of never calling the police to save her until my death bed. I let her die and her blood will forever stain my hands.
I hope you understand, now, that when I say Gabriella Jontas suicided, I wasn't lying.
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