Chapter 28 "Drink this." Ivy handed me a mug filled with warm liquid. My fingers encircled the mug, but I didn't lift it to my lips. Ivy hadn't asked me to tell her about finding John Thomas. She hadn't cross-examined me. She hadn't called a lawyer or started acting like one herself. She'd sat in the backseat next to me on the car ride home. She'd put an arm around me when we'd arrived at the house and climbed out. She'd made this drink and slid it across the kitchen counter to me. "Hot chocolate with a splash of coffee." Ivy met my eyes over the mug. "Nora Kendrick's cure for all ills." I'd spent most of my life thinking that Nora Kendrick was my mother. Swallowing back the rush of emotion that accompanied that thought, I lifted the mug to my lips and let the drink warm me from the inside out. "Have you heard anything?" I asked Ivy once I'd found my voice. "About President Nolan?" Ivy turned and began making herself a mug of hot chocolate, too. "I spoke to Georgia." A slight hitch in her voice contradicted her outward calm. "The president is still in surgery. We won't know how extensive the damage is until he gets out." People died in surgery. They died in surgery all the time. I could see awareness of that fact in Ivy's eyes. She'd worked on President Nolan's campaign. Whenever he or the First Lady had problems, Ivy was their first call. Georgia treated her like a daughter. "You haven't asked me," I said, offering her an out from thinking about it, from talking about it, "what I saw." Ivy turned back to face me, her own coffee mug held between two hands. "Do you want to talk about it?" Did I want to talk about John Thomas's last gasping moments? About pressing my hands to his chest, trying to staunch the flow of blood? About the moment when his eyes went empty, and his head lolled to the side? "I hated him." I stared down at my hot chocolate. "The boy who got killed, John Thomas Wilcox-I hated him." Ivy knew when to keep quiet. I filled the silence, unable to stop talking now that I'd started. "He was a horrible person. The day I arrived at Hardwicke, he was showing off pictures of the vice president's daughter." I paused and let that pause do the talking about the type of photos John Thomas had taken. "She's fourteen. He told her he liked her. He told her she was special, and then he laughed at her while he flashed those pictures around. "This morning, he baited Asher into a fight. He told the entire school that Henry's father was in and out of rehab before he died." The more I talked, the faster the words came. "He texted these pictures of Emilia where she's totally out of it to the whole school. A video, too." I swallowed, remembering the words John Thomas had used to taunt Asher. "He said things about that night. I don't know how much Emilia remembers. I don't know if John Thomas assaulted her, but he enjoyed making her think that he did." Ivy held her expression carefully constant, but I caught a surge of anger in her eyes. I closed mine. "An hour before he died, John Thomas told me that he'd accessed Hardwicke's confidential medical files, that he knew who'd been treated for eating disorders and depression and-" I swallowed back the fury that still wanted to come, thinking about the way he'd singled out Vivvie. "He threatened to tell everyone the details." "What you're saying," Bodie commented from behind me, "is that the kid had enemies." I wondered how long he'd been standing there, how much he'd heard. I twisted in my seat. "I'm saying that I'm one of them." I turned back to Ivy. "I threatened him in class this morning. I told him that I would bury him." And now he was dead. I knew that didn't look good. I couldn't quit thinking about the blood, the empty look in his- "Hey." Ivy reached across the counter and took my hand in hers. "No amount of hating him caused this." I nodded, as if I could will myself into believing what she'd said. "Right before you showed up, the police started asking more pointed questions." I met her eyes. "They're not going to have to talk to many people to figure out that John Thomas and I didn't get along." "Don't worry," Ivy told me. "I'll take care of it." When Ivy Kendrick said she'd take care of something, she meant it. "I tried." My voice broke on that word. "When I saw him, I tried to save him. I screamed for help, and no one came. I called 911-" Ivy came around to my side of the counter. She wrapped her arms around me. For once, I didn't stiffen in her grasp. "If I could take this away," she said, "if I could snap my fingers and go through this for you, feel it for you, I would." "I'm fine." I managed to form the words, but we both knew that was a lie. Bodie crossed in front of us, pulled a large glass out of the cabinet, and started rummaging around in the fridge. After a few minutes-and some rather questionable blender use-he put the glass in front of me. "Drink this," he told me. The liquid in the glass was murky brown. I eyed Bodie warily. "Drink," he told me. "Is that your hangover cure?" Ivy asked him. Bodie ignored her. He nudged me with his foot. "Drink," he ordered. I took a gulp of the liquid and almost choked on it. "And the purpose of me drinking this is what exactly?" I asked, grimacing. "Distraction," Bodie replied. "You're welcome." Before I could formulate a suitable reply, Ivy's phone rang. She moved to answer it, then let her hand fall back to her side. I could see her thinking, Tess needs me right now. I could also see her wanting to answer. "Answer it," I told her. "Take the call." The president was in surgery. There was no way of knowing if he'd make it out alive. Whoever was calling Ivy right now, she needed to pick up. After a split second of hesitation, Ivy did as I said. "Georgia. How is he?" Ivy turned and walked out of the room before I could get a sense of Georgia's reply. After a long moment, I turned back to Bodie. "Take another drink," he advised. "Very funny." I took a gulp of my hot chocolate instead. "Do they have any idea who shot the president?" I hadn't wanted to ask Ivy, but now that it was just Bodie and me, I couldn't keep the question back. Bodie didn't respond, but his eyes betrayed the answer. Ivy had an idea, one that-if it weren't for me-she'd be following up on right now. "Does she think this has something to do with Senza Nome?" I asked. "The group that targeted Walker Nolan, the group Daniela Nicolae works for-does Ivy think they're involved?" Before Bodie could answer-or tell me to stop asking questions-Ivy walked back into the room. "The president is out of surgery," she said, her voice strangled. "There was a lot of damage. They don't know if ..." She shook her head, shaking off an unwanted rush of emotion the way a dog shakes water off its fur. "Go," I said, meeting Ivy's eyes and nodding toward the door. "Whatever Georgia needs, whatever she called to ask you to do-just go." Ivy hesitated. She didn't want to leave, but we both knew she couldn't stay here, holding my hand, when the stakes were this high. "Bodie can keep you company," Ivy said after a moment. "I'll drive myself." Ivy wasn't known for her driving prowess-and given that we were talking about an assassination attempt, I didn't want her out there alone. "Don't be stupid, Ivy. Take Bodie with you." She bristled. "Tessie, I'm not leaving you alone after what you've been through today." I didn't tell Ivy my name was Tess, not Tessie. I didn't tell her I could take care of myself. "I'll call Vivvie," I countered instead. "She was born to slumber party. We'll be fine." Ivy was quiet for a second, maybe two, as she turned that possibility over in her head. "I love you," she said. "More than anything. You know that, right?" "Sure." I didn't want those words to affect me the way they did. I didn't want them to mean that much. I didn't want them to hurt. "I mean it, Tessie. If it came down to the rest of the world or you, I would pick you every single time." Tears I'd kept at bay all day stung my eyes. "Be careful," I told her, my voice fierce. She ran her hand over my hair one last time, then turned and walked to the door, her heels clicking a steady beat against the marble floor. "I always am." A single mother returns to the city she left seven years ago after breaking up with her ex to seek treatment for her son’s leukemia. Upon learning of her return, the ex immediately searches for the lo...