“And?”
Archie exhaled, running a hand through his wet, copper-red hair. “Veronica called. She’s coming back from New York tonight. The Hiram Lodge memorial gala is Friday. She wants me to be her date.”
“Found it taped to my laptop this morning,” Betty said, her voice steady, though her hands trembled. “The same stationery my mom used for her ‘neighborhood watch’ letters back in the day. The same handwriting as the letters the Black Hood sent.” Riverdale
Veronica’s smile was razor-thin. “What I had to. To protect the people I love. The question is: what are you willing to do to protect me?”
“Pickens is collecting relics,” Jughead said, his mind racing. “Properties tied to old traumas. He’s not after land. He’s after leverage. Emotional real estate.” “And
The door opened. Veronica Lodge stepped out, heels splashing in puddles, her black dress immaculate, her diamond choker catching the light. She didn’t run. She walked, slow and deliberate, like a queen returning to a kingdom she never truly left.
Archie put his hand over Veronica’s. Jughead closed his notebook. Betty refolded the letter. The Hiram Lodge memorial gala is Friday
Betty placed a folded piece of paper on the table. It was damp, the ink bleeding slightly, but the message was clear: The Devil’s in the Details, and the Details are in the Old Barn.