Cruel Summer - Page 132

She nods. “Yeah, he remembered because of the interference from the police.”

“The other files?”

“I got someone to authenticate the birth certificates and the same with the picture, it wasn’t photoshopped or altered.”

My legs feel weak and it’s all I can do not to sink to my knees.

“Oh my god,” I breathe out. “He wasn’t lying about any of it.”

“I guess not,” she confirms but there’s something off about her tone. She taps her fingers against a shelf, her eyes floating to the door. “Were you there when the bomb went off?”

It takes a moment for my brain to even connect with what she’s saying, the shift in conversation so random. “Huh?”

“The bomb when it went off yesterday, were you there?”

“How do you know about that?”

She sends me an exasperated look. “Answer my question first, Winter.”

I rub my arm, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. “I was upstairs in my room when it went off.” A funny feeling tingles in the bottom of my stomach. “How did you know about the bomb?” I ask again.

Her eyes narrow the slightest and she looks at the door again before straightening her posture. “Because I planted it.”

What?

“What do you mean you planted it?” I ask, my heart racing.

“You asked me to kill Giovanni Costa,” she reminds me. “I told you you needed proof and since the documents came back clear…”

My head swims and when I shake it, it feels like I’m going to pass right out. “I… I thought you were going to get someone else to do it,” I tell her. I grab my throat when it feels like it’s closing up. “And I hear Lucia tell them that some man who was name Santino planted the bomb. She said she recognized the work.”

Amarie’s body goes completely still. “She lied.”

It’s too much.

Amarie asked about Lucia.

Lucia asked about Amarie.

And now Amarie is saying that Lucia lied about who planted the bomb.

“Maybe she made a mistake,” I suggest.

Amarie shakes her head, her body stiff. “No, you told me she was an assassin, which means she knows the work of other hitmen and women.”

Other hitmen and women.

“Amarie.”

Her lips tighten and a deep breath rocks her chest. “Go ahead and ask.”

“Why would she know your work?”

“The same reason you’re not dead,” she says simply and my body goes cold, “I’m the drake.”

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