"I'm so sorry, East. People have heart attacks all the time. Even young people. Athletes. It happens."
"I know." I nodded. "It does happen. And so we believed it. But about six months ago, at the ten-year anniversary of our initiation when we all joined the Elite, we were leaving and ran into Emma Varma."
She frowned. "Who's that?"
"She's Toby's sister. When we were at school together, our group of friends was so tight. We'd spend holidays with the Varmas. Summers. When we didn't go to their house, Toby came home with one of us, and sometimes she came along."
"Okay. What does she have to do with this?"
"She was there to confront the Elite. She was there to confront them about what they'd done to Toby."
Nyla's brows furrowed. "But you said he had a heart attack."
"I said we thought he had a heart attack. Emma insisted she was certain that there'd been no heart attack. We found out that Toby's death had been no accident."
She moved then and shifted back just half an inch. Her gaze roamed over mine. "What do you mean not an accident?"
"No one killed him or anything, but there were three who contributed to his death. Bram Van Linstead, Garreth Jameson, and Francis Middleton. Van Linstead was supposed to be on watch. All the coffins were fitted with cameras inside. So we were all watched and monitored. We all had heart monitors on as well. He was supposed to be making sure everything was fine. Jameson was the ears. He listened in to the auditory feeds. Was checking to see who was losing their shit. They could hear everything. And then there was Francis Middleton. His part came after the initiation. We insisted that something wasn't right. We didn't believe he’d had a heart attack. So we begged them to look into what had happened in the autopsy. But everything came back normal. There was whole campaign about the unfortunate situation, and money was donated to the Varmas for the tragic loss of their son. Everything was neat and tidy, and the Elite wasn't mentioned in any of it. That was courtesy of the Middletons. They are crisis managers. The whole family. For generations. They are the ones who tell the lies. They speak no evil."
She gasped. "They covered it up?"
I nodded slowly. "Yeah, they covered it up. Toby hollering. Screaming. Begging to be let out. He couldn't breathe in there."
"Oh my God, I am so sorry."
"Deep down, we knew, but we swallowed the lies."
She frowned. "Bram Van Linstead, his sudden rash of misfortunes… That was you?"
I didn't know how much to tell her. I'd already said way too much. "Yes."
"You found the corruption. And you fed it to me."
"Yes. But you were already on the path. You were just looking at the wrong Elite members."
"Oh my God."
I didn't know how mad she was. "I'm sorry. We didn't know you then. We had to protect Ben."
Her brows snapped down. "I'm not mad about that. I'm horrified that you had to go through that."
"Someone left Emma a video showing that if they had just opened the coffin, just let him out, he would still be alive."
"There was video evidence?"
I nodded. "Yeah. And they left it for his sister if you can imagine that."
"That's horrible."
"Yeah. So anyway, we essentially pulled an illegal burn on Bram. But it took some time. We wanted to prevent him from being Director Prime."
"What's Director Prime?"
"It's our leader. Each Director Prime holds the seat for ten years. They can be reelected by consensus of the membership. Or they can be challenged. And a Van Linstead had sat in the Director Prime spot for thirty years, and Bram thought he’d be next."
She whistled low. "His father, his cronies, the things that they did."
"They used the Elite under cover of propriety. They used us all."
"So that's what it was. That underlying, I don't know, but I could sense it… hate."
"I didn't want to be in the Elite. I didn't want to be in any organization with my father. But I did it for my mates, and it turned us all into something else."
"So why won't you let me take them down?"
"Because we already have a plan for that."
"Oh no, no, no, you're not vigilantes. You're going to get yourselves hurt."
"We took down Van Linsted."
She shifted but not out of reach. "How? What did you do?"
"Doesn't matter. The point is that a Van Linsted no longer sits on the proverbial throne. Ben does. And when we deal with Jameson and Middleton, then we're going to dismantle the Elite."
"You're serious?"
I nodded. "Yeah, I am. We've rooted out the Van Linsteds and anyone doing dirty deals with them, but there's so much more corruption we probably don't know about."
"Let me help."
Oh hell. "No, Nyla. There's a way that this is done."
"Vengeance for your friend."
I searched her gaze and said simply, "Yes."
"East, this is a recipe for disaster."
"I'm going to do it whether you want me to or not." Someone had come for me, but they’d made the fatal error of leaving me alive.
"And get hurt? What if this is what they want?"
"Well, then they should have killed me."
"Stop saying that. What am I going to do if you die?" Her bottom lip quivered. She was serious.
"Nyla, I’m sorry. I was being facetious. I'm not going to die."
"You could. They could have killed you last night.” She tugged at the sheet she held to her breast. “God, I don't want to feel this, but now that I am, you want to rip it out of my hands?"
I wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close despite the pain. "You feel something? Do tell."
"Stop it. I'm serious. You could have been seriously hurt."
"I'm serious too. They should have killed me, because now I know they're gunning for us. Someone has secrets they don't
