Ana Covington.
Briana Leigh Covington. Of course. Jasper wasn’t talking about Gage Coolidge. He wasn’t even talking about Ariana Osgood. He was talking about Briana Leigh. The real Briana Leigh. Of course.
Slowly, Ariana dropped the shears. They hit the ground with a clatter.
“The affair,” she heard herself say. “The affair I had with a female professor.”
Jasper stood up straight and cleared his throat. He shifted the knot of his tie. “Yeah. Some woman named Miss French?” he said. “And I just thought . . . I don’t know . . . since you and Lexa have been spending so much time together lately . . .”
“You thought Lexa and I were having an affair?” Ariana asked.
“I don’t know. Not really,” Jasper said. “I was just messing with you. Not that, I mean, if you are, I want to make it perfectly clear that I’m totally okay with that.”
Ariana’s shoulders slumped. Suddenly she felt exhausted. So exhausted she could hardly stand. She leaned back against the cold metal sink and put her face in her hands. Jasper didn’t know anything. Not one single thing. She should have been relieved. She would have been, if she hadn’t just threatened the life of the boy she loved with a pair of rusty old pruning shears.
“Um, Ana?” Jasper asked. “Can I ask you a question?”
With a sigh, Ariana dropped her hands. She looked up at him, at his innocent, questioning face, and knew it was all over. Knew that she might still have to kill him. Because he’d seen her. The worst of her. And now, he’d be suspicious. Now he’d question everything about her.
Everything, everything, everything hinged on whatever he said next.
“If I promise to never piss you off again, will you promise to never wield sharp objects at my throat again?” he said.
And, just like that, Ariana started to laugh.
Jasper took a step toward her, and Ariana, full of relief and love, was about to fall into his arms—fall into his arms and kiss him like nothing else mattered—when there was a crash. It was a crash so huge, so startlingly loud, so never-ending, that Ariana was certain the entire greenhouse had just collapsed atop all her friends.
And then there was a scream. One long, piercing, wailing scream.
Ariana whirled for the door. She shoved through the wall of men in front of her, gaping up at the huge, yawning hole in the roof of the greenhouse. It looked as if a boulder had fallen through the glass. Giant shards jutted out toward the opening, and several pieces dangled precariously, ready to fall onto the crowd below at any moment. What had fallen through the roof ? A tree? A meteor? What could possibly make a hole that big? Ariana’s heart was in her throat. If Lexa wasn’t freaking before, this would end her.
Just as she had this thought, she arrived at the center of the crowd, which had formed a circle on the marble floor. Ariana stopped in her tracks and grabbed Jasper’s arm to keep from going down—from collapsing in shock. It appeared that she was wrong. Lexa wasn’t going to be ended by the sight of all the broken glass. Because Lexa lay in the center of the floor, blood pouring from one ear, glass all around her, with Maria, Soomie, Tahira, Palmer, Rob, and Conrad kneeling all around her.
This is my fault. I did this. This is all my fault.
Ariana rushed into the emergency room after her friends. Palmer gripped her hand as they followed Soomie and Landon to the admitting desk. Maria had ridden in the ambulance with Lexa, who, miraculously, was still alive. At least, she had been when they’d wheeled her stretcher out of the greenhouse.
“Where is she!?”
Ariana whirled around to find Senator and Mrs. Greene barreling through the door. Mrs. Greene was dressed in a royal blue ball gown, her husband in tails. Clearly they had been attending a formal function this evening as well.
“Mrs. Greene, I’m so sorry,” Soomie said, tears streaming down her face as she approached. Hunter came with her, looking ashen under his lank hair.
Ariana’s heart stopped beating. Did they know something new? Had Lexa . . . died?
“She . . . she tried to kill herself,” Soomie said. “We didn’t even realize she was gone. She must have gone upstairs . . . Maria’s bedroom . . . one of the windows overlooks the greenhouse and she . . . she jumped.”
“Omigod!” Mrs. Greene covered her mouth with one hand.
“Is she going to be okay?” Palmer asked.
“We don’t know. They won’t tell us anything,” Soomie said with a sob.
Mrs. Greene went right for the desk, her husband in tow.
“Where is she? Where’s my baby?” she demanded of the overwhelmed clerk. “Take me to see her now.”
Ariana, unable to take it any longer, fell into the nearest chair. Palmer sat next to her, on the edge of his own seat, rubbing her back mechanically.