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This could be our last real chance to find Amber. We don’t even know if she’s still in Forsyth. She may have realized the walls were closing in on her and taken off, but none of us really think that.

The Guardian doesn’t seem like the kind of person to just give up.

Next to me, Hunter’s phone pings and his face lights up as he checks the message.

“Any problems?” I ask. If Sofia gets cold feet, or if word spreads about the plan, we’re fucked.

“Nope. Just a confirmation.” His mouth forms a tight line. “She’s good to go.”

Even though we now know that Amber is the Guardian, we decided to continue with our plan. With the Equinox in two days, the opportunity for Amber to act is narrowing.

While we’re at the performance, Sofia will be taking the route she has been traveling consistently over the past week, which leads her past a few tunnel entry points. Ashby is watching on his monitor, and a few soldiers from all the frats are on the ground. If Amber wants to snatch her before the Equinox, then this is her chance.

“What the hell…” Carson mutters under his breath from the driver’s seat. Timothy occupies the passenger seat, posture rigid as he stares out the windshield toward the hotel bearing his name.

A crowd mills around outside the main entrance, thick enough that Carson has to slow the SUV. Bodies shift and press against the sidewalk barriers. Some hold phones up, recording. Others clutch handmade signs that bob above the sea of heads.

“What’s this?” Hunter asks, eyes tracking the crowd.

“An accident?” I suggest as the vehicle creeps forward.

“No.” Timothy lifts a hand and points toward the signs I hadn’t fully registered yet. “It’s a protest.”

“Protest?” I repeat, rising to get a better look.

“Against me.”

The closer we get, the clearer it becomes that there are more spectators than true participants, but the signs still cut through the noise. Bold black letters on white poster board.

Maddox is a Murderer

Murderer Behind the Mask

Two Faces. One Lie.

A cold weight lodges in my gut. “What’s this about?”

“Graves gave me some reports that said our bookings were down for the quarter.” His hand runs over his beard, the only indicator that he’s bothered by the scene. “It was obvious that being revealed as the Baron King didn’t help business, but I was hoping once the shock wore off people would settle down.”

As the car rolls through the intersection, I see the makeshift stage set up near the hotel’s front plaza. A familiar woman stands in the center of the platform, microphone in hand, voice carrying over the crowd with practiced outrage.

Trudie Stein.

“That woman is like a cockroach,” Hunter mutters beside me. “You think she’s gone, and then she scurries back into the daylight.”

I glance at Timothy. “Is this about your connection to Amber? Do you think she is trying to pin the murders on BRN?”

His jaw sets hard enough that I can see the muscle jump. “Trudie doesn’t give a shit about dead girls. This is about her son, Armand. She’s never believed his death was an accident.”

Hunter and I exchange a look. The memory of that night rises fast–from the start of the Hunt, chasing her through the forest, tracking her down. Arianette standing over Armand’s body, covered in blood and dirt, the knife still in her hand. Despite his size and strength, she had waited for an opening and taken it without hesitation. We made the call then and there to protect her. We told the King that Armand had disobeyed orders, that he had tried to defile the Baroness, and that we had been the ones to intervene. We buried the truth to keep her safe—and, if I’m honest, to keep leverage over the wild girl we claimed that night.

“I’m well aware of what really happened,” Timothy continues, voice low and even. “Arianette murdered him.”

Hunter goes still beside me. “You know?”

It’s a secret the three of us have carried for months–not only to protect her, but because it bound us to her in a way nothing else could.

“More of a suspicion,” Timothy says. “The three of you looked like you’d returned from war that night. Later, after our wedding, I told Arianette that I knew. She didn’t deny it. That was enough of a confirmation for me.”