Chapter 3 THE FRAT PARTY

Violet's eyes opened to nothing but blurry shapes and a throbbing ache on the side of her head. She was still lying on the cold floor, the same floor. The bathroom tiles pressed against her cheek, hard.

She pushed herself up quickly, but that was a mistake. The world spun violently, and her stomach lurched. She reached out blindly, her fingers catching the edge of the sink, and held on until the dizziness passed.

Slowly, she looked around.

The bathroom was empty.

No body, no blood, no dark liquid seeping from under the stall. The floor was clean, almost sparkling, like someone had scrubbed every inch of it. The stall door was closed, and when Violet forced herself to look inside, there was nothing. Just a toilet, just a clean floor.

Like nothing had ever happened.

The masked guy was gone too.

Violet's heart was pounding so hard she could feel it in her throat. She stumbled to her feet, gripping the sink with both hands, and stared at her reflection. Pale face wild eyes. A dark bruise already forming near her temple.

She pulled out her phone.

The time made her stomach drop, her eyes widened in shock.

7:14 PM.

She had been unconscious since morning.

Hours, a whole hours gone.

Her screen was flooded with notifications. Ten missed calls. Six from Mrs. Caffrey and four from Aunt Peyton.

Iris.

Her fingers moved before her brain caught up, dialing the nanny's number. It rang once, twice, three times. Then a robotic voice cut in.

"The person you are trying to reach is currently unavailable. Please try again later."

Violet ended the call and immediately dialed Peyton.

The phone rang once, twice before she picked up.

"Where did you keep your phone? We have been calling you all day." Came aunt Peyton's voice.

Violet's voice came out rough, barely a whisper. "How's Iris, please?"

A pause.

"She's fine. Currently sleeping. The nanny left an hour ago, and I met her here. I had to pay her myself since you weren't picking up. Don't need to repay me."

Violet closed her eyes and let out a breath she did not know she was holding. "Thank you."

"What happened to you? Where have you been?"

Violet looked at the clean floor, the empty stall and the spot where a girl had died just hours ago.

"I'll tell you later," she said. "I'm coming home."

She ended the call, and grabbed her bag,

She walked toward the door and reached for the handle.

It did not move.

She tried again, pushing harder this time, rattling the metal knob against the frame but nothing. The door would not budge.

Her heart, which had finally started to slow, kicked back up into a dangerous rhythm.

She pressed her palm flat against the door and pushed with her whole body. Still nothing. It was locked from the outside.

"No," she whispered. "No, no, no."

She stepped back and stared at the door like it had personally betrayed her. Why was this happening? On her first day? Was she cursed? Did she do something wrong in a past life?

Her mind raced through her options. Scream? No one had come when the girl was dying. No one would come for her either. Break the door down? She was one person with no strength left.

That was when she thought of Cleo.

And immediately regretted not asking for her number.

But then she remembered. Cleo had written it down right after Violet came back with the clothes, Cleo had pulled a small piece of paper from her bag and scribbled a number on it. "In case you need anything," she had said. "I owe you."

Violet had shoved the paper into her bag without thinking twice.

Now she dropped the bag to the floor, unzipped it, and started digging. Pens, old receipts, a half empty pack of gum, a hair tie. Her fingers brushed against something small and folded.

She pulled it out.

The paper was crumpled, but the number was still clear.

Violet typed it into her phone with shaking fingers and pressed call.

•••

THE CRCL LOUNGE*

Cleo sat on the edge of the velvet couch, her legs crossed, her eyes fixed on nothing. Candace had left an hour ago, still fuming, still muttering about the girl who dared to slap her. Now it was just Rose and Lexi, stretched out on the opposite end of the couch like queens on a throne.

Rose had her feet up on the coffee table, her phone in one hand, a bored expression on her face. Lexi was scrolling through Instagram, laughing at something she's watching.

Rose turned her head slightly, not even looking at Cleo directly. "Get me a wine from the cellar."

Cleo wanted to say no. The word sat on the tip of her tongue, heavy and bitter. But she swallowed it, she always swallowed it.

She stood up, walked to the glass fronted wine cellar, and pulled out a bottle of red. She poured it into a crystal glass and handed it to Rose without a word.

Rose took it without thanking her.

Lexi tossed her long wavy hair over her shoulder and grinned. "Get ready. There's a party at the frat house tonight."

Cleo frowned. "But today is Monday."

"Noah is hosting it, and you know he doesn't disappoint." Lexi winked.

Cleo forced a small smile. "Let me get dressed then."

She walked across the room and disappeared into her bedroom, closing the door behind her. The room was small but still luxurious, with a queen sized bed, fairy lights strung across the headboard, and a closet full of clothes.

Her phone buzzed on the bedstand.

She looked down at the screen. It was a number she didn't recognize but she didn't pick up. She had been avoiding a particular number all day. It had been calling her since noon, over and over, and she was tired of explaining herself.

Without checking the screen, she switched her phone to silent and tossed it on the bed.

She walked to her closet and started pulling out clothes for the frat party.