“He knows what you are, and he doesn’t care?” she asks. I bristle at the question, but I’m sure her intention is to protect us.

“He was there when we found out,” I say. “He helped us escape.”

“Let’s not overstate it … ,” Sydney says, picking at her fingernail.

I snort a laugh just as Jackson comes back into the room.

“Interesting,” Raven murmurs, trailing him with her eyes as he crutches toward the couch.

Sydney moves over so Jackson can sit next to me. He eases down, groaning under his breath when he does, and lays the crutches on the floor. Annalise sets the pizza and plates down on the table before grabbing a slice and biting off the end.

“Raven, this is Jackson,” I say, formally introducing them. She doesn’t say hello, but Jackson tells her it’s nice to meet her. After a quiet moment, Raven looks around at all of us, content to ignore him.

“Okay,” Raven says. “One more point on this Anton issue—”

“Anton?” Jackson repeats, turning to me. “The analyst guy from the academy?”

“Very same,” Marcella says, grabbing a slice of pizza.

“We heard his voice in our heads,” Brynn adds. Jackson stares at her, before shifting his eyes to me.

“Once,” I say. “Okay—twice,” I clarify. Jackson opens his mouth in that “aha” look of understanding, although he’s obviously confused. I explain to him what we heard and the receiving signal we may be inadvertently sending out. He nods along, maybe a little bothered at the idea of our brains being the equivalent of girl GPS systems. When I’m done talking, he exhales.

“Actually,” he says, “this kind of ties into why I’m here.”

“That’s not good,” Annalise murmurs around her next bite of pizza.

“I got a call from Quentin earlier,” Jackson says. “He went by Innovations Academy to check on things. He sort of took over my post.”

“He did?” Annalise asks, her voice softening.

“Well, yeah,” Jackson says. “I mean, he’s worried about all of you too.” This makes Annalise smile, even as she tries to hide it.

“Anyway,” Jackson continues. “He saw a couple of fancy cars parked out front. He was concerned, but then he saw several girls being ushered outside. And honestly, neither of us had seen a single girl before that. But there they were.”

“How did they look?” Brynn asks, her eyes welling up.

“Fine,” Jackson says, sounding a bit confused. “Pretty, I guess—they were dressed up. They were with that other woman. The killing one.”

“Leandra,” Marcella says. Jackson nods.

“But there was something else,” he continues. “Something that stood out.”

“What?” I ask.

“There … There were no men,” he says. “No teachers. No headmaster or whatever. It was just Leandra and the girls.” He looks around. “Quentin wondered where she was taking them.”

“Maybe she got the others out,” Brynn suggests. “Just like she promised.”

“Without calling us?” Annalise says. “No, she would have contacted us. And besides, with Anton sending signals, something’s still going on at that school.” Her expression clouds. “Something horrible, I’m sure,” she finishes under her breath.

Sydney takes my hand, but I notice Raven shifting uncomfortably in the chair.

“We have to find our girls,” Brynn says worriedly. “They’re probably wondering where we are.”

“I agree,” I say. “But first, we have to take care of our mission. We’re so close now. Then … Then we’ll find the others.”

I wait until we all agree, and then I rest back on the couch. We have to finish this.

“There’s also Ridgeview,” Sydney says, licking a drop of pizza sauce from her fingers. “We need to deal with those boys.”

“Speaking of,” Raven says, looking from me to Sydney, “I heard what happened to you both at school today. It’s total bullshit.”

“Yeah,” Sydney agrees. “But I’m not mad that I’ll never see the place again.”

“Wait,” Jackson says, turning to me. “What happened at school?”

“I got expelled for breaking a lunch tray over a boy’s head,” I tell him.

He pauses. “Oh.”

“To be fair,” I add, “he was harassing a girl in the cafeteria. I had to stop him.”

Jackson smiles a little. “Good for you, then,” he says. “I hope you knocked him out.”

We go on to tell them the details, the horrifying realizations about the school and the vice principal. The invite from Lyle to go to his party later with the promise that Garrett won’t be there.

“The entire school culture is out of control,” I say. “If we don’t stop these boys from behaving badly in high school, what are they going to become later in life?”

“Supreme Court Justices,” Marcella mutters across from me.

“Mena,” Raven says, drawing my attention. “It’s worse than you think. I started looking into your school. I hacked into forums, ones that were password protected. The boys have been doing more than casual lunchtime harassment. They have … posts and pictures. Scorecards. It goes back years. It’s a Ridgeview tradition.”

“Bastards,” Annalise says, baring her teeth.

“Then what do we do?” Marcella demands. “We have to stop them.”

“What if we get them to admit it on tape?” I ask. “The party tonight at Lyle’s, a few of the boys will be there.”

“That’s great,” Marcella says. “But it’s not like they’re just going to tell us everything they’ve done. I’ve seen the news. They’ll just lie.”

“I can leak a story about the harassment going on at school to the New York Times,” Raven offers.

Now there’s something we didn’t think of.

“They’ll print it?” I ask.

“No,” Raven says, shaking her head. “Not without more proof. Right now, there’s only some anonymous posts. It’s still just your word against that boy’s.”

“Then why does his word mean more?” I ask.

“Because he has a dick,” Raven replies easily. “Trust me when I say you could have sixty female accusers and some people will still call them all liars. The process is deeply flawed.”

“Then what’s the point?” Marcella asks bitterly. She looks around at all of us. “What’s the point of continuing to seek justice if it’s never given? Why even contact the press?”

“To get the conversation started,” Raven says. “Then we’ll follow it up with proof. That’s the thing …” She holds my gaze. “It’s about persistence. Yes, we have to fight harder to be heard, but if we keep shouting, they’ll eventually listen.”

I snap my fingers. “Adrian,” I say. “You mentioned witnesses. Well, she’s in my class, and she’s the one Garrett was harassing in the cafeteria. The vice principal said no girls have ever filed a complaint, but maybe … maybe she would. It can be part of the story you send to the Times. And maybe she could convince other girls to do the same.”