Confessions About Colton (Wattpad Books Edition)

Chapter 3

A couple of days had passed since the funeral and I thought about taking the letter to the police. So far, there hadn't been any advancements in their investigation—or, if there were, they hadn't released any information. Yet there I was, holding a vital piece of evidence and withholding it from the authorities.

I should hand it in.

But the thought of giving up the letter didn't sit right. Would I find a threat in my car the next morning? Would another letter turn up in my mailbox a week later? The part of me consumed by rage desperately needed an outlet. I needed someone to direct my hatred toward and this was the perfect opportunity.

Striking up your own investigation would do more harm than good.

I groaned internally, tired from the constant battle in my head. The letter explained that there were clues to suggest where the next would be found. But there were no signs of riddles or poems or anything remotely like a puzzle. The more I read it, the less it made any sense.

Perhaps I wasn't cut out to be a detective. I took it as a sign to surrender the letter. If I couldn't figure out anything by the end of the day, I'd hand it over.

"Are you hungry?"

I looked up from the letter to see Cass standing at my door, holding a tray of food. Although I was perfectly capable of making my own lunch, she felt the need to baby me. Her older sister instincts (and her unhealthy urge to keep busy under difficult circumstances) were kicking in, but I would have felt a lot more comfortable if she had just gone back to university and focused on her studies. I enjoyed having her around, but I didn't like the reasons why she was visiting.

She had come home to Newtown to be there for my graduation. It was only meant to be for the weekend. Then she had planned to head back to campus to focus on her summer classes. And then I found Colton dead. The school had canceled the ceremony—it was to be rescheduled in a few weeks—and Cass had stayed ever since, trying to provide moral support and warm meals every day.

I shrugged and she entered, placing the tray on my study desk. "Thanks."

"What are you working on?" she asked, nodding at the piece of paper in front of me. "I thought school was officially over."

I reached out and grabbed it, folding it lazily. "Just doing some reading," I answered, shoving it between a couple of books.

"Your eulogy?" she asked tentatively, as if the remembrance of my breakdown at Colton's funeral would ignite another.

"Yeah."

"You really should apologize to the Crests," Cass said, placing her hands in her pockets and rocking back on her heels. "Walking out in the middle of the service wasn't one of your greatest points."

"I know."

She dropped onto the edge of my bed and crossed her legs, nervously tucking a piece of hair away from her face. Her posture was impeccable: back straight, neck poised. That could only mean one thing. She had news—and nothing particularly good.

"What?" I asked, spinning around in my desk chair to face her. She shifted uncomfortably. "Cass?" I prodded. "What is it?"

My sister looked down at her hands and eventually said, "Mom's coming."

"What?"

"She's on the next flight out," she explained.

The divorce had happened before I could remember. Cass said

she recalled getting pulled out of preschool, but that was about it. According to my father, their split wasn't based on anything dramatic, like cheating. My parents had simply lost their spark of affection and agreed that it would be best for them to go their separate ways. I thought it was one-sided, though, because Dad hadn't dated since then, while my mother, Valerie, had remarried and had three more kids.