Page 51 of Crush

It’s the first time Aiko’s referred to Savannah that way, and I soften my features. “I’m going to do everything I can.”

“I know you are. I’m so lucky I found you.”

I swallow against the lump of guilt. Is helping Aiko what this is, or am I going through the motions of a good friend while carrying the trauma of my own kidnapping? My own sale to my parents?

“Ember? You okay?” Aiko lowers her and Savannah’s craft. “Can you handle this?”

I snap my head up, pouring resolve into my veins. “Totally. Computers are my thing. If Savannah’s hidden something, I’ll find it.”

Aiko makes a disbelieving sound in her throat. “Go right ahead.”

Smiling now and eager to break into a computer, I spin back to Savannah’s desk and begin with cracking her password.

I don’t even have to employ mad skills. On the third try, I get it: THORNE1. His name and the number of years they dated. People are always so personal with their passwords. Likely, she’s used it for everything on this computer. I easily access her documents and scan through them, but pull up her deleted files with more interest, especially when I get the Task Manager open and start typing in code.

“Find anything?” I ask vaguely while keeping my eyes on the scrolling data as the computer searches.

“Not yet.” Aiko’s muffled voice comes out of the closet. “I told you, she’s not like that—”

“Wait.” I straighten from my position, clicking on a spreadsheet my inputted commands located. “I’ve seen this before…”

Malcolm’s office flashes into my memories and the papers I noticed scattered across his desk. The way Savannah’s recorded times, numbers—locations?—is identical to his. “Holy shit, I think this is the original file!”

“What’s that?” Aiko steps out of the closet, her hair sticking out from the static of digging through Savannah’s hangers. “You actually found something?”

“I think so. Maybe.” I sit back, frowning. “Maybe not.”

“You’re not even speaking computer language, and I still don’t understand what you’re saying. What are you looking at?” Aiko peers over my shoulder. “Looks like a boring business assignment to me. She aimed to major in business in college and took all the required courses she could. Did I tell you that?”

“No,” I murmur, but I can’t peel my attention off the screen.

“Well, you tried.” Aiko straightens and shrugs. “I’ll finish up in the closet, but there’s a good chance you and I will be making more popcorn and putting on a movie soon. I told you her room wouldn’t provide us with much.”

“Yeah…” I say, noncommittal. “Just try to see if there’s anything out of place or that doesn’t belong here.”

Aiko goes back to the closet. I should really help her. I’m the one who found the hidden section of the jewelry box, after all. But I can’t move. All I can do is think.

Malcolm and Savannah have the same weird spreadsheet with specifically sparse details. Yet they both contain just enough information to be documenting the comings and goings of … something?

I press both hands to my temples, groaning against an impending headache.

What does this shared spreadsheet mean?

Oh, no. I go rigid in my seat, my eyelids stretching to the aching point.

What if.

What if … it’s not Damion Briar who had something to do with Savannah’s disappearance, but Malcolm?

22

Thorne

True to my father’s bullshit appearances, he demands I sit with him and my stepmother for Saturday brunch before they depart on their jet to … who the fuck cares.

Stepmother dearest is almost comatose in her oatmeal while my father studies me over his egg whites. It’s obvious and uncomfortable, but he knows that.

I tilt my head, popping my neck on both sides before scooping up more oatmeal. The sooner I finish eating, the quicker I can be relieved of these two.