I shift a panicked gaze to Sydney, trying to understand what’s happening amid the chaos. What we’ve done. Sydney grips the headboard of my bed, her arms shaking. Annalise sits with her back against the wall, blood freely pouring from her face and staining her shirt red.

I back up toward Marcella and Brynn, each of us grabbing onto each other. The Guardian is a wounded animal, more dangerous than ever. Rabid. He grits his teeth and reaches clumsily to find the handle of the scissors.

Before I can think better of it, I hold up my hand. “Wait,” I say breathlessly.

The Guardian yanks out the scissors.

He must instantly realize what he’s done. His pale eyes go wide as a spray of blood shoots out from the side of his neck in a sudden burst. The Guardian slaps his hand over his wound, but it’s too late. The fluid pulses from between his fingers, pours out of his mouth. He chokes on it and falls heavily to his other knee, shaking the floor.

He falls forward onto his chest. Before I can move out of the way, the Guardian grabs me by the pant leg, knotting his bloody fingers in the fabric. He pulls me to the floor. I cry out as he tugs me toward him, still stronger. Still going to kill me.

Marcella quickly comes over and pries the Guardian’s fingers open, dragging me out of his reach. She wraps her arms around me protectively. Brynn grabs onto us as we watch, all of us gasping. Sobbing. The sound of it echoes around the room. Light scatters frantically on the walls from the broken lamp.

The Guardian looks at us from the floor, gurgling and spitting. His skin has gone waxy as blood pools around his head, spreading out in my direction. Chasing me. I move my foot out of the way.

“Girls,” the Guardian whispers as one last curse. He chokes and blood sputters from between his lips. He takes a final breath—a rattle in his chest. And then his body goes suddenly limp and he dies.

I cover my mouth and immediately look at Sydney. The true depth of what has just happened is still hidden behind adrenaline, fear so deep it might never go away. Sydney is on the bed, marks visible on her neck. Her shirt torn at the collar.

There was no other choice. He would have killed us.

I get to my feet and race over to Sydney, gathering her into a hug as she sobs heavily into my shoulder. Her voice is strangled when she whispers suddenly, desperately, “I love you, Mena.”

And I cry as I tell her that I love her too.

28

None of the other girls come to check on us. In fact, the entire floor is silent. I wonder if they’re scared. Or if they’re obedient. Or if they’re simply asleep. If so, we can’t chance waking them now. Not with the professors still here to stop us.

I take a blanket from my bed and lay it over the Guardian’s body, unable to handle the guilt of seeing him dead on my floor.

Marcella holds a sweater to the cut on the back of Brynn’s head, unsteady herself as she helps Brynn to her feet. Annalise watches us from the wall—her breathing shallow. And when she brushes her hair from her face, I see the extent of the damage. Shards of glass have punctured her right eye, torn the skin open on her cheek. Annalise’s good eye flutters shut and a tear leaks out and mixes with her blood. It’s then that I notice the deep gash in her neck, pumping out a steady stream of blood.

She’s going to bleed to death. Just like the Guardian.

I quickly grab a pillow, pulling off the flowered pillowcase, and rush to Annalise.

“Hey,” I whisper, gently pressing the fabric against her wound. It’s instantly soaked through with blood. I try not to show my panic. “We have to get you to the doctor,” I tell her. “I have no way to stop the bleeding.”

She watches me, hitching in breaths. She gives a quick shake of her head.

“No,” she says. “This is your chance. You can’t stay for me.”

“I won’t leave you.” The tears well up again, and I start to think I’ll never stop crying. That I’ll cry forever. “I would never leave you,” I murmur at the unimaginable thought.

Sydney comes from behind me and puts her hand on my shoulder, staring at Annalise. Marcella and Brynn do the same. We’ll stay together. No matter what, we stay together.

I lean down to press my forehead to Annalise’s, her blood sticky on my skin.

I know she won’t get far like this. We can find Dr. Groger and ask for his help—he’s probably in his residence. It might mean never getting out of this academy, but we’ll try. And we’ll be together.

“You’re going to have to get up,” I tell Annalise, even as her eye flutters open and closed, like she’s about to pass out. But together, we get Annalise to her feet.

There’s so much blood everywhere. Every direction. It’s even on my walls.

It’s on my soul.

I wonder if I’ll ever have another simple thought, or if they’ll all be tainted with murder and blood from now on.

Can you hear them too? Valentine Wright asked me that day in the Federal Flower Garden. The roses. They’re alive, you know. All of them. If you listen closely enough, you can hear their shared roots. Their common purpose. They’re beautiful, but it’s not all they are.

I did hear them. Not while we were at the garden, no. But I did hear them eventually.

And I can hear them now. Only they’re not telling me to wake up. They’re telling me to find Valentine.

“There’s another option,” I say suddenly, turning to the girls. “The key Leandra left behind in the kitchen—the one to the lab. There has to be something in there we can use to help Annalise. Maybe we can repair the damage enough for us to leave. Figure out what to do after that.”

Marcella and Sydney exchange a quick glance before nodding. It’s a good enough idea. It’s better than giving up and hoping for mercy from the men who have kept us as prisoners. There’s a key ring on the Guardian’s belt, and I slowly reach under him to remove it, frightened to touch his body in case he’s still alive. Still murderous.

These are the keys to the kitchen door, the gate. The keys to our freedom. I hold them out to Brynn, and after she takes them, there’s a fresh rise of hope in my chest.

“And we’ll find Valentine,” I tell the others. “We’ll save her, too.”

Sydney opens her mouth to argue, but I see that she realizes the truth. Valentine might already be dead, but we won’t leave her if she’s not. We won’t leave her behind.

• • •

The school is silent as we rush down the back stairs. I’ve never heard it this quiet, not even at night. Somewhere, Anton is on his own. In his room? In his office? Does he have any idea what’s happened here?

Part of me wants to run that way and confront him, but the professors will be awake soon enough. And when we’re not at breakfast, they’ll realize we’re missing. They’ll come for us. We have to be long gone by then.

My shoes are slippery as I walk Annalise down the stairs, leaving a trail of blood behind us. When we get to the kitchen, ready to take the stairwell to the basement, there’s a bang on the back door.

The girls and I stop and turn toward it. I have the wild notion that it’s Guardian Bose back from the dead. His violent ghost continues to seek me out. I grip Sydney’s hand and look back toward the hall, afraid the noise will tip off Anton or the professors that something’s wrong.