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arms as she observes the boys.
    “You two been seeing anything strange?” I ask. “Things—people—that shouldn’t be here?”
    Valerie crosses her tattooed arms across her chest. “Having an episode? You’re not gonna go bat-shit crazy on us, are you?”
    I might be. Because Todd and that girl—I saw them. Who’s to say how sane I am?
    Jace takes the effort to drag her gaze away from the boys. “People?”
    I open my mouth to explain, but I’m distracted by Casey, who’s now hovering at the base of the stairs. He glances from us to the boys on the couch. I guess neither conversation is appealing to him.
    The lights flicker, the buzz of electricity a prevalent force against my ear drums. They sputter out.
    When the power returns, Valerie hisses, “Holy fuck.”
    The girl from the hall stands at the top of the stairs. Valerie can see her. I’m not going insane. She’s real.
    Blaise, who has been lying on the couch since this afternoon, suddenly sits up. He starts to mutter. A prayer, maybe? He jumps up, swings his backpack over his shoulders, and bolts out the door.
    Salem acts like he’s going to follow in Blaise’s footsteps, but stays planted in his chair, watching the girl cautiously.
    Casey realizes the attention magnet above his head.
    “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Salem groans.
    “Who is
she
?” Jace asks.
    “One of the cunts who testified against me.”
    An audible growl escapes Valerie’s throat. She clutches the kitchen island in front of her, the muscles in her forearms dangerously tense.
    How can Salem’s victim be here, in the Compass Room? Someone must have paid her to make an appearance, but that means she was willing to be in the same room with him.
    She leans forward on the railing, breasts trying their hardest to spill from the triangle restraints of her nightie. “Hey, baby,” she purrs. “Missed you.”
    “What the
fuck
?” whispers Valerie.
    Jace’s hands clamp her glass of juice tightly. “How is she here? How is she inside, like us, how . . .”
    The skeletal girl struts down the stairs. “Come on, sweetheart, why such the long face?”
    Don’t tell him I’m here. I want it to be a surprise.
    “Here to apologize, you stupid bitch?” Salem seethes. I wince at his tone.
    “Knock it off, asswipe,” Valerie snarls. “Don’t pretend you didn’t rape her.”
    Salem locks onto Valerie, cracking a wicked grin. “Never denied anything, did I?”
    “I’m going to kill him,” she mutters.
    She isn’t above it, Salem should know. But his expression is fearless.
    “I do want to apologize, Salem.” The girl steps onto the stone of the living room floor and slinks around the couch, making her way toward him. “I know what you’ve been thinking. That this place is paradise. I’m here to prove that to you.” She bats her eyelashes. “So sit back and let me.”
    The lights dim. Valerie’s all jumpy next to me, so I extend my hand in front of her and say, “Let it play out.”
    “Let him
touch her
? After what he did?”
    Yes, because she’s letting him. Yes, because this situation is too insane to address. The little blonde crawls onto his lap, and Salem smirks, feasting his eyes on her scrawny, deprived body. Casey waits with clenched fists. Hurried whispers stir from Erity and Stella behind me, and Gordon, well, Gordon starts to cackle, low and gravelly at first, spiraling into mania.
    “Think I’d leave you all alone, baby, in a place where the girls don’t service the boys like they should?”
    “You’re finally making sense to me.” His hands travel up the back of her thighs, cupping her ass.
    She chuckles darkly. “Good.”
    Clasping her hands on either side of his head, she twists, elbows swinging as she snaps his neck in half.

 
    I Don’t Remember Most of the Trial.
    A funny thing happened with my mind—a trick—during all of those testimonies. I couldn’t even remember
my
testimony. Just blocked out. A shade drawn over a window.
    But I