Lorraine's POV
I blinked, the weight of Astrid's words crashing into me like a cold wave. She wasn't the killer.
If Astrid didn't kill that poor feral girl.… then that means the real murderer had been out there this whole time. Watching. Waiting. Lurking.
A chill traced down my spine.
We'd gotten it all wrong. I had gotten it wrong. And worse? The killer was still loose, still walking these halls. Still breathing the same air as Elise, Felix…. and me.
No.
I gripped the blanket tighter around my body, the soft fabric suddenly feeling too thin, too fragile, like my illusion of safety had just been ripped away.
"I need to go," I murmured under my breath, barely able to hear myself over the blood pounding in my ears. "I need to find them… make sure they're okay."
Astrid didn't flinch. She crossed her arms instead, lips curling into something unreadable. "If you want to survive what's coming, truly survive, you have to shed what's keeping you weak."
I froze. "What?"
