Archie put his hand over Veronica’s. Jughead closed his notebook. Betty refolded the letter.
Jughead’s pen stopped scratching. “Alice Cooper is in a facility two counties over. Medicated. Watched.” Riverdale
“You’re doing it again,” Jughead said, not looking up. “The jaw clench. The thousand-yard stare. You’re composing a sad song about it, aren’t you?” Archie put his hand over Veronica’s
Jughead finally looked up, his pale blue eyes sharp. “Maybe that’s all you are to her now. A memory of a simpler time before her father’s empire crumbled, before she had to rebuild it with her mother’s cold, manicured hands.” Jughead’s pen stopped scratching
The rain intensified, hammering the windows like it was trying to get in. Pop Tate appeared, silent as a ghost, and refilled Jughead’s coffee. He knew better than to ask questions. He’d seen too many Riverdale seasons turn from milkshakes to murder.