Chapter 212

Dexter Goodwin shot a cold glance at Jareth Carrington, whose brows were furrowed tight. The sarcasm in Dexter’s eyes was hard to miss—as if watching a clueless man stumble in the dark. Clearly, Jareth still hadn’t figured out who played him, and maybe he never would. Not that Dexter planned to help. Let him waste his energy trying to piece it all together. Maybe that could count as a bit of karma for everything he’d thrown at Celestia lately. With that thought, Dexter’s expression stiffened slightly, and he switched the topic. “Whatever your reasons were, I’m not buying it. I trust Henry and Celestia completely.” He shot a quick look at the hospital bed where Henry Brooks lay unconscious, and his eyes grew darker with sorrow. If Henry ever learned the full scope of what had gone down, it might not be the car accident that knocked him out—but sheer rage. Even Dexter, an outsider, felt a knot in his chest just thinking about it. How could a father not feel it tenfold? “You must’ve gotte