KNOX’S POV
“Yeah.” I stare at the tap. “That’s what scares me. I stood over that kid and asked him straight if anyone told him what to say. He looked at me like I’d asked whether the sky was edible. He had no idea what I meant.” I shake my head slowly. “Nobody coached him, Ember. Whatever happened, he thinks he actually saw Marjorie.”
“Then how the hell—”
“Exactly.” I hear my own voice climbing and pull it back. “So now I have a seventy-year-old woman apparently escaping a locked cell, walking past two armed guards, killing seven girls without leaving a mark, then coming back downstairs, locking herself back in and going to sleep. That is insane. Nobody does that. Except the keys went missing, two men swear they saw her face, the herbs came from her garden, and every road points straigh
