43. Logan

43LOGAN

Corinne comes into the bathroom, and I step back.

“You opened it,” I breathe. “Why did it open for you?”

“Let me explain.”

I shake my head. “You’re the Sponsor, aren’t you?”

“No.”

“Then why did it open for you?”

“Logan, I swear. It’s not me. I’m not going to hurt you, and I don’t think you want to hurt me. I just need you to trust me.”

Trust me.It’s such a stupid phrase, so small and basic, one no one should ever believe, but we do it anyway. I unclench my fists.

“Why are you here?” I ask her.

She takes a shaky breath. “I was working with Tilly. The IRL team. I’m … sort of their plant.”

“You’re helping them? Corinne, what the—”

She steps toward me, and I back away, the sink jutting into my spine.

“I need you to listen to me,” Corinne says quickly. “I didn’t know that anyone was going to die. I swear, Logan. I didn’t know.”

“Six people are fucking dead!”

Corinne sinks to the ground next to me, resting against the sink cabinet, like she’s too exhausted to stand anymore. “I know.”

“Corinne, what the hell is going on?”

“It was just supposed to be an experiment.” Her face tenses at the word. “That’s what Tilly called it. We were going to show everyone what this industry is really like. Expose the dark side of people like—”

“People like me.” It burns in my throat.

Corinne looks up at me, anger flashing in her expression. “Yeah. People like you.”

Suddenly, I feel too heavy to stand, too. I sit next to her. “Fine. Maybe we deserved that. But an experiment? People are dead, Corinne.”

“I know,” she says, her voice thick with sadness. “But I swear, this wasn’t supposed to happen. That’s not why I’m here.”

“Then why? How did you even—I mean, you’re a creator, too. You’re one of us.”

Her face hardens. “Yeah, I used to think so.” She reaches up to her necklace, rubbing her thumb over the pendant. “My sister’s a designer. One of the ones who McKayleigh stole from.”

It hits me like a shock of ice water.

“Shit. I’m so sorry.”

Her hand falls to her lap, my apology fading between us like the weak thing it was.

“After Elyse found out McKayleigh stole her jumpsuit, she sent a DM, but you saw what happened,” Corinne says. “Elyse is a smaller creator, so McKayleigh thought she could walk all over her. But I thought maybe if I stepped in, since I have more of a platform…” She gives a small eye roll at the idea. “It didn’t matter. McKayleigh never answered. I even reached out to her reps, but nothing. So, I sent one last DM saying I’d call her out in a live stream if she didn’t start responding.” Anger tightens her features, her mouth pressing into a straight line. “The next morning, my Twitch account was suspended. And I got an email from McKayleigh’s legal team. If I posted anything about the whole thing, they’d sue. For ‘what little I was worth.’ That was the exact phrase they used.”

I lean my head back against the sink, wishing I felt more surprised.

“I was ready to keep fighting, but Elyse…” Corinne closes her eyes. “She asked me not to do anything else. She thought I’d already lost enough for her sake. So, I didn’t do anything. I tried to let it go, but I was just so mad.”

“Yeah,” I whisper. “I know what that feels like.”

“No, you don’t.” Her stare cuts into me. “I mean, maybe you do. But you don’t know what it’s like to be a Black creator and watch this happen over and over again. Elyse and I have had to work twice as hard to get where we are, and then someone like McKayleigh Hill can just walk in and pull it all out from under us because she felt like it.” Corinne presses her temples, taking a breath. “Look, I know the Bounce House treated you like shit, too. No one deserves what Zane did to you, but the thing is, you were still their friend. You got the money and the followers and that was enough. You knew exactly what kind of people they were, and it still took what you did to Jenna for you to finally wake up and leave.”

I look down at the floor, my hands hanging limp between my knees. She’s right. I know she’s right, and it still hurts.

“After what McKayleigh did, I felt like I was out of options. But then I got a DM,” Corinne says. “I’d posted something a while back, a subtweet about the whole thing. I didn’t mention McKayleigh, just influencers in general, and I deleted it pretty quickly in case she could use it against me. But I guess Tilly saw the post before it was gone. She messaged me to say she was working on a project that she wanted me to be a part of. Something that would force people like McKayleigh to be held accountable. She said the Bounce House would be there, and other influencers, too. People who’d done bad things.”

Something cracks inside me. “Did you know about Jenna?”

Corinne looks away. “Tilly had suspicions. She didn’t give me details, but she thought the Bounce House had something to do with her best friend disappearing.”

Her best friend. Oh god. Tilly was Jenna’s best friend. This whole time, behind her chipper smile, Tilly was suspecting us. Wanting us dead. Would I do the same thing, if someone took Harper from me? It slices through me like a blade, the certainty. I would. I would in a second.

“I should’ve known she’d been playing me this whole time. I should’ve pressed Tilly for the whole story. I’m normally more careful than this. I just—” Corinne presses the heels of her hands to her eyes. “I wanted McKayleigh and the rest of you to look at what you’ve done. Clearly. Without running away.” She breathes out, dropping her hands. “All Tilly told me was that I would come to the island, pretend to be one of the cast, and follow the Sponsor’s instructions. Keep everything running smoothly. She told me I’d find a phone in there.” She points at the hidden door. “But when I checked on the first night, there was nothing. And then after we found Cole, I got a bunch of messages saying to keep following instructions, or…” Her face twitches. “Or I’d be next.”

She starts to shudder, a tear falling onto her freckled cheek, and I lean over to wrap my arms around her. She tenses away from my touch, but then reaches for my hand, lets me squeeze it.

“I wanted to come clean,” she says. “I just—I didn’t know who I could trust. I didn’t know who Tilly was working with. I was so scared, and I didn’t—”

“Corinne, it’s okay. This isn’t your fault.”

“I know,” she says, eyes blazing. “But I still want to fucking end it.”

I swallow down the lump in my throat, forcing myself not to cry. I don’t deserve tears, not now. And then, for the first time, I realize.

“But Tilly isn’t here. Who the fuck is—”

“The Sponsor?” Corinne finishes, glancing at the door. “I don’t have proof yet, but I think I figured it out.”

And then I remember, fear radiating through me. “The safe is gone. Someone took it.”

“I know.”

“Wait, what?”

“I have a plan.” Corinne gives a small, frustrated sigh. “This is why I needed everyone to stay together. We just need to—”

Footsteps sound in the hallway, getting closer until they stop just in front of the door. I take a breath, but Corinne shakes her head sharply, covering my mouth with her hand.

On the other side, someone knocks.