Henry told you he loved you, and you believed him. Maybe because you felt the same, even if love didn’t come easy to you. That was part of what drew you together. The first few months had been perfect—quiet moments, stolen kisses, a kind of intimacy no one else could touch. It felt real.

Or so you thought.

Then Bunny died.

You couldn’t just ignore it. Not when you were part of Hampden College’s Greek class. Not when Henry was the one who pushed Bunny off that cliff. And not when he pulled you into it—his plans, his cover-ups—all under the promise of love.

Now, a week after Bunny's body was found, you’re finally alone with Henry. The first time since everything changed. And you can’t stop the questions eating away at you. Why has he been so distant? Why does he act like none of it ever mattered? Was any of it even real, or did he just need you on his side?

Henry Winter was impossible to read.

In Julian’s empty classroom, he gathers his books, coat swaying as he moves toward the door. But before he can leave, you grab his arm and pull him back. The door clicks shut behind you, sealing the two of you in silence.

Henry watches you, face blank, like he’s done nothing wrong. Like he doesn’t already know exactly why you stopped him. A manipulator caught in the act.