Page 108 of Salem’s Rise

His expression tightens with a hurt he doesn’t bother trying to hide. “Yes, I do,” he says. “Because it’s the truth.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, damn it. And, Jack, there’s more.” He drags a hand through his hair, frustration breaking through. “There are other things I need to tell you. Things I’ve been keeping from you that you need to know. And I’m sorry I never told you, but⁠—”

“Stop!” I shout. “Just stop already! Do you ever tell the truth?”

“To you, now—yes.”

“Is Josh dead?”

Silence.

“Is he dead, Silas?”

Silas does not move. His face changes so completely that I know it even before he speaks. The room seems to contract around us, the walls pressing inward, the air thinning until I cannot draw enough of it into my lungs.

“Yes.”

Something inside me goes cold.

“How long have you known?”

He looks at me, and this time there is no hesitation. “I knew he died last year,” he says. “I found out a few weeks after Veil Night.”

I stop breathing.

A year. He has known for over a year.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“At first, I just wanted you to leave town. I thought you’d be safe that way,” he says. “You seemed so angry. You would’ve tried to find someone responsible and punish them,” he answers, too quickly, too logically. “But then, after The Rites began, I knew telling you wouldn’t help you. What you needed was hope. Believing he might still be alive was the only thing keeping you moving forward. It kept you winning.”

Of course. It has always been about The Rites. Not me or whatever fledgling feelings I stupidly thought might have been developing between us. But winning.

He wanted to keep me useful.

Keep me obedient.

Keep me playing the game.

“You manipulated me,” I say, anger crashing through me so hard it drowns out everything else. “You never cared about me, or what I wanted. You just let me believe he was alive because it kept me exactly where you needed me.”

He closes his eyes for the briefest moment, and when he opens them again, there’s something wounded in his gaze.

“Can’t you see I was trying to protect you?” he asks. “I was wrong to keep the truth from you. I get that now. But everything I did was to keep you safe.”

A lump rises in my throat, so thick it hurts to swallow.

“How did he die?” I whisper. “Did you kill him?”

Silas recoils as though I struck him.

“Of course not. How could you even think that?” he asks, his voice gone hoarse. “He was trying to perform a Blood Rite. He found one of the old Veil ritual knives and The Book of Eternal Rites—the same book you have. He believed he could bring your father back. He thought he understood what’s required for a blood sacrifice.”

My fingers go numb as I fist the bedsheets, twisting them so tightly the fabric strains between my hands.

“What happened?”