Chapter 319

“The police had been finding a troubling pattern in their investigation into the rash of missing teenagers. Each one had left home willingly, ventured to some off-the-grid location, and then vanished without a trace. There's footage. They all had this vacant stare, like they'd been drugged or something," Finn said, tossing a stack of printouts on my desk.

"And all of them, at some point, had crossed paths with Phoebe."

I looked up sharply at Finn. "What are you implying?"

"Every one of these missing kids was on the autism spectrum, prodigies in their own right but introverted, not big on socializing. Their parents hired tutors, teenagers like them, to help socialize them. Before Phoebe turned eighteen, she was a tutor to these kids."

Finn frowned, his implication hanging in the air. Was Phoebe connected to the disappearances?

"That's impossible..." My head started pounding, and a ringing filled my ears.

"Phoebe was just a regular student. She couldn't possibly tutor prodigies..." I couldn't believe it. I was no prodigy. Just an average student.

Just a regular kid cramming for college entrance exams.

"But that was her facade." Finn sneered, scrolling through images on his phone. "These are test papers from our Genius Class. The handwriting for the questions is Caleb's, but look at the answers."

I took Finn's phone, my breath catching at the sight. That handwriting looked like mine.

ordinary student." Finn's voice was icy.

was Phoebe who answered them, but the handwriting doesn't lie. She aced everything—she was

full marks in the Genius Class

for Phoebe's death, rendering her beyond suspicion, she would've been a prime

She could concoct mind-altering drugs from basic ingredients, drugs that could

theory sounded like a wild guess. He speculated that I had created some drug to make the autistic kids comply, to leave home willingly and then get snatched away where no eyes

phone, my

couldn't

I wasn't even of

could I have

had no memory

splitting..." Suddenly, the pain escalated, as if

me sway, his expression a mix of

steadied myself against the bed, the room

voice, frantic, came from the doorway. He must've heard about my car accident and Julian whisking

before

too weak to resist, my head throbbing as

"Phoebe, are you okay?"

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