A teen girl looking for the truth about her missing mother forms a reluctant alliance with her former best friend...in exchange for hiding him from his cult-leading family. “All hail the new queen of YA horrormance! Arndt’s unputdownable debut crackles with wit and seethes with terrors just beneath the surface. Equal parts tender and grisly, Together We Rot will sink its roots into you.”—Allison Saft, New York Times bestselling author of A Far Wilder Magic Wil Greene and Elwood Clarke used to be inseparable. That was before she accused his family of killing her mother. These days, Wil obsessively gathers not-so-legal evidence on her mom’s disappearance while she and her checked-out dad try to make ends meet at their failing motel. They’re a hair’s breadth away from foreclosure, and the powerful Clarkes have their eye on the property. Elwood has been counting down the days until winter break. He hasn’t told anyone he won’t be coming back to school to finish out senior year—his pastor father is training him to lead their congregation, the Garden of Adam. But after one last night out with his friends, he comes face-to-face with a more chilling fate. He’s not his father’s successor . . . but his sacrifice. Now on the run, Elwood knows Wil is his only hope. Together, they must dig up the truth about her mom and the Garden of Adam. But what they don’t know is that Elwood harbors another monstrous secret, growing deep inside him. Can Wil save the boy she can’t help but fall for? Love for Together We Rot “All hail the new queen of YA horrormance! Arndt’s unputdownable debut crackles with wit and seethes with terrors just beneath the surface. Equal parts tender and grisly, Together We Rot will sink its roots into you.”—Allison Saft, New York Times bestselling author of A Far Wilder Magic “ Together We Rot is an atmospheric, twisty read that seamlessly blends horror and romance. Arndt’s incisive character work and punchy prose conjure two leads who are impossible not to root for, and her immersive, well-drawn setting is a riveting character of its own. An impressive debut.”—C. L. Herman, New York Times, USA Today, and national indie best-selling author of The Devouring Gray and All of Us Villains "Haunting and spellbinding."— Kirkus Reviews Skyla Arndt has always loved the creepy, crawly side of life. When she was younger, she thought that love might translate to hunting Bigfoot, but luckily for him, writing proved easier. Together We Rot is her debut novel. Connect with her at arndtskyla.com or @arndtskyla on Instagram or Twitter. (Howling at the moon works, too.) CHAPTER ONE WIL “It doesn’t count as evidence if you were stalking them, Wil.” Sheriff Vrees has been kicking up a storm since I waltzed through the door, but he lets out another groan for good measure. We’ve got a weekly ritual, the two of us. I’ve spent the last year digging into his ribs like a thorn, looming over my mother’s missing person case, and he’s spent the last year looking into early retirement. “You can’t solve crimes by committing your own,” he says flatly. Every day, I parade into the Pine Point police station with new clues; he dismisses them, and then we duke it out for fifteen minutes. Today, we’ve made it to the second minute of our scheduled banter. I slap my hand on the counter. He’s lucky there’s a barrier between us. I’d love nothing more than to leap over it some days and throttle him. “So you admit what happened was a crime?” His co-workers don’t bat an eye behind him. They’re used to this song and dance. They’re also too busy not doing their jobs: chatting among themselves, wadding papers to toss into faraway cans, slurping coffee, and snacking on doughnuts. Overly stereotypical crap. Anything to egg me on, I guess. One of them is fiddling with the radio and playing tinny Christmas music over the warbled speakers. I don’t care how much Michael Bublé plays or how hard the snow falls beyond the glass windows—I’m not in a holly-jolly mood. There’s a limit to my patience and we’re at the end of it. My mood today is best described as five seconds away from physically assaulting an officer. “For the last time, Ms. Greene, there is no sign of foul play.” His fingers lock together, the way they always do when he’s absolutely livid, just barely keeping his shit together. I’ve done a number on him in a matter of twelve months: Weathered eyes, black hair streaked through with gray, a family of premature wrinkles carved into his skin. “We’ve looked into your mother’s case. Tirelessly. Endlessly. All signs point to your mother leaving town voluntarily.” Behind him, the wall is a boring wash of pale yellow. It bleeds together with the rest of the office. With him. Muted and dull and unremarkable, Sheriff Vrees is about as bland as they come. He’s a lukewarm TV dinner or a mindless Saturday afternoon, the kind you spend with your eyes glazed over and the local news playing quietly in the background. He’s