CHAPTER EIGHT
With relentless questions about Rhea’s death dogging her mind, Riley stood still and looked up and down the dorm hallway.
This was where it started, she thought.
She found herself picturing the place on Thursday night, the moment after she reluctantly agreed to go to the Centaur’s Den with her friends.
She had just put on her denim jacket over a flattering crop top and stepped out into the hallway. Trudy and Rhea had been rounding up the other girls for their outing—Cassie, Gina, and Heather.
Riley remembered the bustle of immature excitement in the air—the promise of drinking, dancing, and maybe some guys.
She also remembered how disconnected she’d felt from all that.
She retraced the group’s steps down the hall and continued on outside.
It was already dark out—not a
