Half-Truths

by Claire Contreras

  I sat back after reading that entry and stared at the screen. Discovering this little club. What club? Did she mean the octopus people? Was this secret society some sort of sex club? That would be my next question to them, no doubt. If it was, I was out. I did not want to be tossed around from person to person for their enjoyment. What would Logan think of this whole thing? I shook the thought away quickly. He’d told me to stay away from the cloaks. Also, he was not my boyfriend. It didn’t matter what he thought. I clicked on another one, skipping the rest of April and going straight to the last one she’d written in May. With the computer about to die, I needed to focus on things that may have answers.

  May 25th—

  The people around us were making it virtually impossible for us to see each other. I don’t blame them. Each of them have their reasons for not wanting to see us together. The one that bothers me most is Ella. She acted like my friend for so long, a mentor, an amazing boss, and the minute she saw me walk into that party with him it was like a light switch went off. All of a sudden, she’s in every restaurant, every event, and every bar we visit. We try to be inconspicuous when we’re together. We keep a safe distance when we’re out in public, but somehow she knows. She knows that behind closed doors we’re more and she seems to be going to great lengths to keep us from being together. I hate that it bothers me. I didn’t set out to be part of this. I wanted to expose the hidden secret societies around campus and now I’m stuck under their thumb because I fell for the one person I shouldn’t have.

  I met a friend though. I won’t say her name here in case this gets into the wrong hands. She’s helped me see that my feelings for him are valid, that I belong with him, so that makes me feel less crazy. That doesn’t mean I’m an idiot. I know he’s going to leave me soon. I’ve seen the pictures of him with past girls in my situation. I’ve looked them up, too. He wasn’t lying when he said he could help build my career. Two of those girls have been in Forbes Magazine already. I’m trying not to think about it, but I know I’ll just have to lick my wounds and move on. Who knows, maybe I was right all along. Maybe the societies wield too much power and need to be exposed. I just don’t think I can do that to him. Maybe his son is right. Maybe I need to be the one to walk away from this.

  I re-read the letter three times. Whoever she was having an affair with was obviously linked to Ella. My father was the first person who came to mind and I hated that. A chill rushed through me. Could he be the one? Her mentor? Could Lana have gone that far and slept with my father? No. Not Lana. Maybe this was someone else’s notes. Maybe someone else was doing this research and sent it to her. I thought of the pictures of my brother with her. I needed to see them again. I needed to see them after reading this and really pay attention to how they looked. With that thought in mind, I gathered my things and left the library.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  I was looking over my shoulder, thinking about the letters I’d just read. God, was Lana having an affair with my father? Could he do that? I knew he wasn’t a saint. My parents seemed to be on the brink of divorce every five years, and a lot of their arguments stemmed from him being unfaithful. It was something they would never discuss in front of us, but we weren’t stupid. Lincoln had almost come to blows with dad last Christmas. That made me pause and stop dead in my tracks. Could it have been about Lana? She’d started writing those entries in April. It was possible that she was with whoever she was writing about in December. She disappeared in May though. This was all too much. I started walking again. Obviously, Lincoln was involved with this secret society, but was dad?

  Even if I didn’t manage to get the two points I needed, I’d find out. Evidentially, as secretive as they thought they were, a lot of people knew about the money. They must have dangled it in front of countless people. I wondered how many chomped. Most of us were wealthy kids from wealthy families, trust fund babies who knew under very rare circumstances they’d end up poor and wanting, yet that money called to us for some reason. Maybe because despite what was promised to us by our last names, what we really wanted was something that was wholly ours. What I wanted above anything else was a way to help Lincoln. A way to understand what he’d been through and why he’d ended up the way he did. I needed answers because I absolutely knew he didn’t try to kill himself. He’d said it himself, but even if he hadn’t, I knew my brother.

  “Boo.”

  I shrieked at the sound that came out of the darkness and braced myself for a fight. When he walked out in front of me, it wasn’t a cloaked figure, but Nolan, laughing at my reaction. Laughing so hard, in fact, that he doubled over. I pushed him as hard as I could, hard enough that he fell over onto the grass and continued to laugh.

  “What the hell, Nolan?” I pushed his leg with my foot.

  “Holy shit. I would apologize, but that was the highlight of my week,” he huffed. I kicked him in the shin, and he laughed harder. “Ouch. Okay, I’ll stop. I’ll stop.”

  I crossed my arms and waited. He laughed a few more times until he finally recovered and stood up, dusting off his joggers and grey school sweatshirt. I started walking again.

  “Why are you walking all alone anyway?” He started walking beside me. “You know the rumors aren’t just rumors. That girl really did disappear.”

  “You mean Lana?” I looked at him quickly. I was already on edge for so many reasons, and he’d gone and brought her up. “What do you know about it?”

  “Not much except that she disappeared.”

  “Do you think she’s alive?”

  “I think if she was, she would’ve been found by now.”

  “So you think she’s dead.”

  “I mean, her parents had crews of privately hired people who looked for her everywhere.” He shrugged. “It is sad though. She was a great girl.”

  “You knew her?”

  “She used to take pictures of the team. Kind of the way you do.” He smiled a little. “She was always nice.”

  “Do you know if she got into any bad things?”

  “What’s your definition of bad?”

  “What’s yours?”

  His eyes danced. “I don’t know but something tells me your definition of bad is way tamer than mine.”

  “Probably,” I said. “Do you know if she was with someone? Like in a relationship?”

  “I don’t know.” He glanced away from me and looked forward as we walked. Something about the way he answered that question and the way he looked away, made me think he was lying. “Some people think she ran away,” he added.

  “Why would she run away though?”

  “Dodging responsibility? I don’t know.”

  “Would you run away to dodge responsibility?”

  “No.” He chuckled. “Even if I did, responsibility would hunt me down and find me.”

  I thought about that. Would Lana have run away? Maybe once things ended with the man she was seeing, she decided to leave? Maybe she’d left because she wanted to prove a point, to make him miss her? It didn’t make sense, but anything was possible.

  “Have you seen any cloaked people walking around?” I asked.

  “Why? You looking for one?”

  “No.”

  “Well, that’s unfortunate.” Nolan’s wide grin sparkled in the moonlight. “Because we’ve been waiting for you to leave the damn library all night.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The look on my face must have said all the things my voice couldn’t, because Nolan stopped walking and set a hand on my shoulder. Despite the sympathetic look he was giving me, my fight or flight response was kicking. Adrenaline coursed through me, the way my martial arts instructors had often described to me, but I never actually experienced until this very moment.

  “Relax. We’re not going to hurt you.” He grinned. “Much.”

  “I’ll scream.”

  “Scream.” He shrugged.

  “I’ll fight.”

  “You think you can take all of us?” As he asked that, fiv
e figures appeared out of the shadows behind him, walking toward us in unison, all wearing black but not cloaked, no longer cowering beneath sheets.

  In the darkness, I couldn’t tell who was who. I could only tell there were also women amongst them and I could only pray that a woman wouldn’t let them hurt me, not physically anyway. I met Nolan’s gaze.

  “What’s the game? What are you going to do to me today? Lock me up in another dungeon?”

  “Of sorts.”

  “Of sorts,” I repeated the words back slowly, fighting the fear they brought with them. “What does that mean ‘of sorts?’”

  “If it makes you feel any better, we’ve all done some version of the things we expect you to do.”

  “It doesn’t.”

  “Well, you won’t be alone tonight. Maybe that’ll make you feel better.”

  “It doesn’t.”

  “Then you’re shit out of luck. Let’s go, Bastón.” He turned around, facing the others. “You want answers, we got them, but you need to play our game.”

  He didn’t make an attempt to grab me or carry me or anything that I expected. Instead, he walked, leaving enough room between them and me to make it clear that I was free to make the decision. With words like those, it was impossible for me to just go home right now. Following them into the dark seemed crazy, and a part of me argued that it was stupid, but another part of me, the part vibrating with adrenaline, wanted to chase after him. I hesitated for a second.

  Thanks to Lincoln and his little “let’s lock you in the dark closet” games when we were kids, I wasn’t just afraid of the dark, I was terrified of it. I was also the kind of person who ran toward things that scared me, not because I wanted to get over my fears, but because I’d been so sheltered my entire life that I felt I had something to prove to myself by conquering small feats. It was that thought that made me take a step forward, toward the darkness, toward the row of strangers dressed like they were going to a funeral, and for all I knew, it would be mine.

  Three of the five in front of Nolan walked in another direction, not bothering to turn around to say goodbye. Nolan glanced at me over his shoulder.

  “You’ll meet everyone when the time comes. For now, onto the first challenge. It’ll be easy.”

  He led me through an archway between buildings that led to a park I hadn’t seen, not that I’d ventured out much. There were two more people dressed in black. Logan. My pulse spiked when our eyes met. I wanted to punch him for telling me to stay away from the cloaks and not admitting he knew what the calling card was when he saw it that night. For all I knew, he was the one putting them on my doorstep. I glared.

  They led me to a spot in the grass that had cones all around it and a big bright light—like the ones you see in outdoor arenas—shining over it. I almost laughed. Were they going to make me do drills? I wasn’t sure I could do any drills right now.

  “If you look closely, you’ll see that the grass is covered with blades,” a guy I didn’t know or recognize said.

  He waved me to walk forward. I moved forward and saw some sort of iron square laid out with what looked like pieces of shards glittering through, each of them placed like stakes coming out of the ground. They were placed on the iron in a way that made it impossible to do a drill around them, not a fast one anyway. You would have to meticulously step in order not to drive one of them into your foot.

  “What is it that you’re asking me to do?” I looked between Nolan, the guy, and Logan.

  “It’s a trust drill. We expect you to go from point A to point B by following your guide’s instructions,” Nolan explained.

  I balked. “Without looking down?”

  “Yep.”

  “Yeah, right.” I started to laugh nervously, but stopped when I realized they were serious. “Is that even physically possible? At one point I’ll look down. It’s human nature.”

  “You won’t be able to look down,” Nolan said. “You won’t be able to see anything at all.”

  “What?” My jaw dropped. “You’re going to blindfold me?”

  Nolan nodded once.

  “How am I . . . who’s going to . . . I don’t think I can . . . “

  “I’ll lead you to the other side,” Logan said, his voice ringing clear in the silence.

  “You expect me to believe that you’re going to get me to the other side unscathed? While I’m blindfolded?”

  “I do.”

  “And why would I believe that?”

  “Because I’m telling you I will.”

  “What if I asked you to take my place in this drill? Would you trust me to lead you while you’re blindfolded?”

  “Yes.” He didn’t hesitate, but he had to be bluffing.

  “Have you done this?” I asked, and he nodded. A part of me—a really stupid part of me—didn’t want to ask who he trusted enough to lead him to the other side, but I had to ask anyway. “Who got you through your drill?”

  “Your brother.”

  I took a step back. I had not been expecting that.

  “Are you doing it or not?” That came from one of the other guys.

  They all looked so damn sure that I’d hightail out of there. It was probably the only reason I stepped forward with a nod. I was doing it. I looked at Logan. He didn’t look any more impressed by my confirmation than anyone else did. He looked bored. As he walked over to me with the blindfold in his hand, his expression was all business. He put it over my head and placed it on my forehead, his eyes on mine.

  “You’re going to get the urge to reach up and snatch it off. Don’t.”

  “I don’t know if I can do this.”

  “You can. I’ll be on the other side guiding you.”

  I looked behind him, at the trap on the ground that looked like a serial killer’s idea of a good time. When my gaze met his again, I saw concern in his. I thought he was going to talk me off the ledge, or reassure me that I would be great at this. Instead, he tapped my head and started walking away.

  “She’s ready.”

  I opened my mouth to say I wasn’t, but closed it again. They explained the object of the game again: get to the other side with my partner’s help. Rely solely on him, without giving in to the urge to yank the blindfold off. The area was quite small and without the blades, I could get there in four or five steps. With the blades there, it wasn’t simple at all. Without relying on my own sight, it seemed impossible.

  “We’re going to do this in counts. Like this—” He picked up his right leg and moved it slightly without setting it down. “This is one count.” He moved the same leg a little further out. “This is two counts. We’ll do it like that—one count, two counts, two counts, one count,” he said as he demonstrated. “You understand?”

  “Do I understand that you want me to die tonight?” I nodded. “Yep. Crystal clear.”

  He rolled his eyes. The rest of the guys chuckled before going silent.

  “Take one step forward,” he said.

  I did. I wasn’t in the actual square yet, but my palms were already sweating and my knees were already shaking.

  “Set the blindfold over your eyes,” he said. I held his gaze as I shakily lifted my hands to the blindfold, holding it at my forehead for a beat. “Come on, Amelia. You can do this.”

  It was his deep voice that coaxed me into doing it. Once it was over my eyes, I couldn’t see anything at all. I looked around, toward where I thought the light was, and I could definitely see brightness behind the blindfold, but nothing beyond that.

  “Look at me,” Logan said.

  My head instantly snapped in his direction. “I can’t see anything.”

  “It’s okay. You can do this,” he repeated. “Pick up your left foot and step forward.”

  My blood pumped wildly as I did as he instructed. I took a deep breath, then another one, trying as best I could to calm down.

  “Listen to me, Amelia. My voice. Only my voice.”

  Under any other circumstance, like Spin the Bottle or
Seven minutes in heaven, I would absolutely be okay with closing my eyes and having him talk to me. While standing in the middle of knives though, wearing a ridiculous helmet over my head? Not so much.

  “Pick up your right foot, remember the counts? One count forward, one count to the right. Pay attention. This is important.”

  I whimpered, my body shaking as I lifted my foot and did as I was told. Once it was on the ground, and I didn’t feel a knife on it, I let out a breath.

  “Left foot, one count forward, one count left.”

  I did as I was told, my foot shaky as I set it down. I whimpered, my lip trembling.

  “I don’t think I can do this.” My teeth clattered. “I don’t think I can do—”

  “Well, now you really are surrounded by blades, so you have to.”

  I shook my head quickly. “I can’t.”

  “Listen to my voice,” he said. “I vouched for you. You have to finish.”

  “I didn’t ask you to vouch for me,” I shouted, because it was the only thing I could do.

  “Yet I did.”

  “Why?” I shook.

  “Because I believe in you.”

  “You don’t even know me.” I took a deep breath. “You don’t even like me.”

  “This isn’t about me. This is about you. Do you believe in yourself? Do you like yourself?” He paused. “Matter of fact, how much do you like your toes? You’re about to slice one open if you don’t follow my instructions.

  “Oh my God,” I whispered.

  “Left foot forward. One count.”

  My heart pounded as I did it.

  “Pick up your right foot and move it two counts left. I’ll count. Ready?”