“I … got stabbed?” I suggest, and he sighs, his face softening up. Oh, well. Damn. I’d get stabbed more often if it’d get me out of awkward situations like this. Could also possibly get me extra Jell-O. They do serve Jell-O in hospitals still, right? “I read once that Jell-O is made out of bone marrow—” I blurt but Tobias shuts me up with a kiss, pressing his mouth against mine and managing to convey every emotion he’s feeling with just his lips. “Oh, wow,” I say as he pulls back and looks me in the face with those moss green eyes of his. “That … was impressive.”

“We love you, Charlotte,” he says, and then pauses, like something’s just occurred to him. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Micah says, drawing my attention back to him. “More than I feel comfortable admitting. Because, you know, I don’t want to get committed or anything.”

“You’re committably in love me with me?” I ask, sniffling. I almost died in the woods. I get to cry.

“Committably isn’t a word,” Church lets me know softly, and I smile, looking over him, Spencer and Ranger standing on either side. “But also, we’re very glad that you’re not dead.”

“I’m glad you’re not dead, too,” I say, smiling and then pausing, the expression slipping off my face. “Wait, what happened at the prom after I passed out?” Church watches me from those beautiful amber eyes of his. “And why weren’t you affected by the drugs?”

“He spent the whole night drinking that stupid sparkling water, the kind with the corks that the waiters were bringing around, and not eating anything,” Spencer says, glancing over at his friend, like they might’ve had this discussion while I was passed out. “We’re guessing Aster drugged our desserts. Makes sense now why she was so determined to join the Culinary Club.”

“And there I was, hoping the punch would be spiked,” I say with a shake of my head. “Just … not with whatever it was that they gave us.”

“Everybody’s okay,” Micah adds, “but if you thought being the only girl would get you a lot of attention at Adamson, that’s got nothing on your status now, as the survivor of a crazy cult attack.”

“That still doesn’t explain why Church was underground in a mask and robes,” I say, grimacing slightly and holding my palms out in an apology. “I’m not accusing you of anything—I’ve learned my lesson—but … I have to know.”

Church sighs and looks down at the floor for a moment, like he’s got something he wants to say but isn’t sure how it’ll be received. When he looks up, there’s a devastating amount of guilt in his gaze.

“Ian Dave and Nathan, they asked me to help. The sting operation had been in planning for a while; they knew they were coming for the Fellowship that night, regardless of what happened.”

“You … knew all of that was going to happen?” I choke out, thinking of the way he looked down at me as he was escorting me to prom, the way he looked into my eyes. How could he have known what was going on and let us fall right into the trap?

“Not the thing with the drugged desserts or the secret church,” he admits, cringing slightly and gritting his teeth.

“You’re not a mind reader, a magician, or an FBI agent, bro, relax,” Ranger chastises softly.

“When Mark and Selena stormed out after their fight, I followed them.” Church sighs, like he’s tired, too. We’re all tired, I think. “After I called Ian, I followed them, then I disabled the cultist who was watching the door they went in through.”

“Ian let you follow those psychos?” I ask, blinking through surprise, but Church just shakes his head.

“Not at all. He cursed me out actually, but I wasn’t going to let anything happen to you two.”

“We’re beyond grateful,” Spencer says, his expression darkening slightly. How we never figured out he was a mark, too, I don’t know.

“The rest of us were lying in our leftover salads,” Ranger says with a bit of a growl, and a warm flush in his cheeks. Church gives him a look and smiles slightly.

“Mark entered the tunnels the same way that we went. I was only able to follow at a distance, and without much light. Otherwise I would’ve recognized earlier that we’d traveled through another door into the sewer system. If I’d only figured that out sooner …”

“It doesn’t matter,” I say, thinking of that moment when I was lying on the altar, those creepy psychos chanting around me, the candles flickering. I was certain I was going to die in there. Certain of it. “I’m glad you guys are here. What’s going to happen to your dad, Ranger?” I ask, but he just shakes his head.

“I don’t care, just so long as I never have to see him again. He and Rick took Jenica from me, and there’s no coming back from that. They can both rot in prison for all I care.”

I wonder if someday, Ranger’s going to think about what really happened, and break down. But if he does, that’ll be okay, because we’ll be here.

We’ll all be here.

“Does this mean we get to enjoy the rest of the year without Aster trying to crash our Culinary Club meetings?” I ask, and the twins grin.

“Told you she was guilty,” they say, crossing their arms over their chests.

“You certainly did,” I say, grinning back and wishing I could rip this IV out and go home. Only, I’m a big baby and it’d totally hurt, and I’m not dumb enough to mess with medical shit that I don’t understand. “So, who’s going to be the first guy to bring me a strawberry milkshake from the Jaw Flapper? First one to do it gets to cuddle in bed with me.”

“You think we’re actually to bother fighting over something like that?” Ranger says, and then pauses. “I better go get you something to eat though.”

“Oh, no way, man, that shake is mine,” Spencer says, and they smirk at each other while the twins struggle to push each other back.

“I’ll get the shake,” Church says, slipping out the door, but not before stopping to smile at me. “And anything else you want. Anything.” He steps out and closes the door as I laugh, putting my face in my hands as Dad steps into the room and starts to yell headmaster-y things at the boys.

Ah, life is good, isn’t it?

The wind swishes my skirts around my thighs as I stand outside the imposing stone walls of Adamson Academy (formerly known as Adamson All-Boys Academy).

“It looks less like a school, and more like a castle,” I say, grinning as I repeat the first thought I ever had about this place aloud.

“More like a church that used to hide a creepy underground chamber for cultists,” Spencer says, raising both brows at me. I laugh and bump his shoulder with mine, moving into the hallway to the cheers of the other students. To be fair, I didn’t do anything but get stabbed. But senior year of high school? That totally makes you cool.

“For my future bride,” Church says, appearing on my left and handing over an iced coffee while Ranger shoves a freshly baked and carefully wrapped muffin into the front pocket of my bag.

“Why, thank you, sirs,” I say as I hook my arm with Spencer’s.