by Emme DeWitt
She tucked the phone back in place.
“Of course, I was listening,” Evangeline argued into the phone, waving me out the door.
Ig vaulted down the stairs with me, racing me to the deer path back toward the Landing.
I followed his dark form, ducking around the overgrown brush along every turn. We burst out into the open just past the Landing, and Ig guided me along the tree line as Evangeline had instructed.
He launched himself back into the brush without warning. I stuttered to a stop, looking for him in the densely packed bushes and elderly trees. I couldn’t see any sort of path, so I refused to follow him any farther. Picking up my pace, I glided along the tree line, keeping the deserted buildings in my periphery. Slowly, the tension in my head melted away as I found my stride.
The sleepy campus was just stirring as I neared my second loop, pleased to find my back soaked and my mind clear. I felt like I could go another several circuits, but the instructions from Evangeline had been clear. Today was not the day to buck sensible advice.
I still wasn’t sure if I trusted her completely, but the events of the past few hours made it undeniably clear. I was going to need someone in my corner, watching my back. Adele had warned me as much, but I was a little late to be picky about who that person would be now that I was on my own.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out before the third pulse.
It was Adele.
“It’s like you’re psychic,” I said to my screen, accepting the video call as I closed the remaining distance between me and the Landing’s front door.
“Yeah, my trouble meter has been going off all night,” Adele snapped. “Why haven’t you been answering your phone?”
“Must have been in a dead spot. The Wi-Fi’s good, but it’s not that good,” I argued.
“Don’t let it happen again,” Adele bristled, crossing her arms. “I almost charged campus like a mad woman.”
“Yeah, not a good idea,” I replied. “Especially not today.”
“Why?”
“Hey, can I call you back later?” I said, feeling a gaze on me. “I just finished my run and I need to shower. I’m meeting a friend to study.”
“You just got there. And you don’t run this late.” Adele checked her watch. “What the hell is going on?”
“Talk to you later,” I said in a falsely peppy voice. “Bye.”
I disconnected the call with a savage tap and shoved the phone back into my pocket as I trotted up the stairs. The hairs tingled on the back of my neck, and I glanced back at the tree line as I leaned into the door. I couldn’t see anyone, but I definitely felt like I was being watched.
The staircase was empty, but I could hear the beginnings of morning life behind the closed doors of each landing. I took the stairs two at a time, trying to get into my room before anyone decided to make an early start and see me coming in at an ungodly weekend morning hour.
As I barreled through my bedroom door, grabbing my toiletry bag and robe, I snuck my phone out of its pocket. Something itched in the back of my mind. Evangeline had warned me of the inevitable campus lockdown that would come once Sean’s body was discovered. I had a feeling the Wi-Fi would be shut off to ward off any crazy social media rumors.
I messaged Adele before locking myself in the bathroom.
Red line only, I typed. The British are coming. I hit send.
I turned off the Wi-Fi on my phone, letting it cycle uselessly trying to find a signal.
The message app Adele had built for our use was virtually untraceable, but to be safe, we used it only when we had no other option. By disabling my phone from the network, any messages I sent wouldn’t be trickling through servers Adele didn’t already have a direct line to. It would take the authorities much longer to produce a warrant for the private servers Adele maintained than whichever ones the school used. Plenty of time to hide anything incriminating.
I dropped my phone on the pile of black running clothes I’d piled on the pristine tile floor. I yanked the nozzle to scalding hot in the shower, creating a cloud of steam that quickly fogged over the wall of mirrors along the vanity counter. I inspected myself in the full-length mirror quickly, trying to make sure I hadn’t missed any blood from earlier.
Grabbing my loofah from my tote, I stepped into the burning stream and didn’t resurface until my skin was a raw, lobster red. Even then, I still didn’t feel one hundred percent clean.
Sean’s glassy-eyed stare floated up in my mind’s eye. A full-body shiver wracked me in the muggy heat of the poorly vented room.
“Enough,” I told myself in the blurry mirror.
It was time to stop being passive. If I was up against a chess grandmaster, I better open my eyes to the board. Colm was right. It might not be my end game, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t beat someone to theirs.
Twenty-Three
Evangeline was waiting for me on the front porch of the Landing. She checked her phone, sighing in annoyance.
“Fashionably late ended about fifteen minutes ago.” She drew herself up to her full height.
I looked down at her, her bravado only reaching my shoulder.
“Sorry if I tried to look presentable,” I said. “I had a bit of a shoe crisis.”
We both looked down at my black high-ankle basketball shoes. Other than my boots and running shoes, I hadn’t packed very many shoes in my carry on. The rest were in the boxes at home. It hadn’t seemed important at the time.
“Did you do something to your hair?” Evangeline asked, peering around my shoulder.
“Had to do some damage control. Sorry it took a while.” I stepped down a step so Evangeline and I were at the same eye level. The repair product I’d run through my curls caused them to tighten, making it nearly impossible to pull them into any sort of hair tie. I wasn’t a fan of the crunchy texture, but the flip side was a mass of unruly hair that had people wondering if I licked electrical sockets for fun.
“I tried to imitate how you normally wear your hair on a run.” Evangeline frowned. “What happened? Did I do something wrong?”
“When we have time, one day I’ll explain to you what moisture can do to curls.” A smile pulled at the corner of my mouth. “You did fine.”
I set off for the dining hall, hearing Evangeline scurry after my long strides.
“So what’s the play, boss?” I asked, feeling Evangeline slide into the spot on my right side naturally.
“Act dumb. Say as few words as possible.” Evangeline shrugged. “It’ll be easy for me. We’ve got about fifty feet until I shut down anyway.”
I halted, causing Evangeline to slingshot past me before she floated back.
“What?” she asked, looking around for something.
“Words. More words.” I rolled my wrist for her to continue.
“You’ve seen me in class.” Evangeline shrugged. “I get to about five people comfortably, then it’s downhill past that.”
“Is it really social anxiety?” I asked, searching Evangeline’s face for any twitch out of the ordinary. “Or is it something else?”
“Warmer.” Evangeline cleared her throat. She shoved her hands in her jacket pockets, her legs dancing with impatience.
“And you’re on which plane again? Relative?” I guessed.
Evangeline shook her head. “Colder.”
I pursed my lips at her.
“Temporal?” I pulled the word out of the recesses of my mind. I tried to remember the other options from the diagram, but I was a little slow from exhaustion.
“Ice cold.” Evangeline wrinkled her nose.
I let out a stream of air through my nose. “Sentient,” I said, watching Evangeline pogo on the spot.
“Thank God. I’m freezing.” Evangeline bounced around in the chill air. “I hate guessing games.”
The sun was out finally, but her thin jacket was not as helpful as my quilted coat. I pulled it off around my messenger bag, throwing it around her shoulders.
“Focus,” I said. “I need the full picture before you flake out.”
“Fair enough,” Evangeline said, her buzzing now relegated to minor fidgeting.
“Anything I can do to help with the overload?” I asked. A weight hit the bottom of my stomach. Maybe I would have to face the Inquisition on my own after all.
“I’ll try and keep it together,” Evangeline said. “But thanks. I’ll try and step into the other room, as they say. Sometimes that’s enough of a buffer for me to survive.”
“How bad is it looking?” I nodded my head toward the dining hall.
Evangeline looked off to the side in contemplation. “They’re still looking at the crime scene. Students are getting restless because their phones are being taken away and they can’t leave. Some of them are still in their pajamas,” Evangeline said. “Lots of nervous energy. Oh shit.”
Evangeline ducked, grabbing me by my arm and dragging me toward the entrance.
“We gotta get in there now,” Evangeline said. “Our window of opportunity is closing.”
“What window?” I asked, but we were up the stairs and through the door before I could pull any more information from Evangeline.
As soon as she crossed through the entryway, it was like she walked into a wall.
She stiffened, her face going slack as her eyes darkened. Her forward momentum was halted, and I had to press against the small of her back for her autopilot to move her forward.
The buzz of the dining hall rose up around me as I guided Evangeline farther in. Police were stationed in all the doorways, even flanking the food assembly line. The dean was on the far end of the hall, her face partially obscured by a heavily decorated police officer with a pair of cords draped across his shoulder. He must be the one in charge.
Officers walked up to speak to the man briefly, his face turning to catch their whispers in his ear before returning to face the dean. She stood in perfect view of the entire hall, and her eyes slid from the police chief to mine.
The chief noticed the distraction and turned to find what had caught the dean’s attention. While her face remained impassive, the slightest crease formed in the chief’s forehead below the brim of his hat. I looked away from the dean, trying not to seem guilty by holding her gaze. Why should I dare lock gazes with her if I didn’t have something to hide?
The bench nearest me was empty, the students having clustered farther into the mass of tables. The empty seats seemed like a buffer for whatever serious business was going on. Even the normal students seemed to sense the cloud of anxiety in the air and wanted nothing to do with it.
I led Evangeline to the empty bench and bent over to speak in her ear.
“Dean’s looking at me. Stay here. I’m going to grab some food and coffee.” I set my bag neatly on the ground next to Evangeline.
I ducked through the doors of the buffet line, the kitchen eerily silent as I piled some rolls and cold cuts onto a plate. A bolt of electricity shot down my spine. I had to remind myself to breathe evenly in and out. My hands shook slightly as I punched the buttons of the percolator. As soon as the coffees were ready, I balanced the plate precariously on my forearm, grabbed one of them in each hand, and used my back to push through the door and into the buzzing hive of students.
The door opened too easily, and I stumbled, sloshing coffee on my hand.
“You all right?” a uniformed officer asked, holding the door for me. I winced as my grip on the coffee cups slipped. Another officer stepped in and grabbed them, following me dutifully back to Evangeline, who had spaced out. I set the plate of food in front of her vacant eyes.
The officer from the door pressed his finger to his earpiece, frowning at the squawking voice. He pressed the microphone, muttering an affirmative to his chest. He caught the eye of the officer who had set the coffee cups down on the table next to where I’d set my plate.
“Miss, could you follow me please?” the first policeman said.
I glanced at Evangeline.
“Can it wait?” I asked him, my hand settling protectively on Evangeline’s shoulder. “My friend has some really intense social anxiety. I don’t want to leave her here by herself.”
The officer relayed my request through his communication system, getting another series of squawks back.
“She doesn’t look too good.” The second officer glanced at his colleague from his observation of Evangeline. “Do you know if she’s on any medication? Should we call a medic?”
“Bryant, stay with the girl,” the first officer instructed, holding his arm out for me to follow. “We’ll be right back.”
The officer nodded, sitting down next to Evangeline and speaking in a soft voice. I hated to leave her, but it didn’t take me long to figure out who had summoned me.
We walked down the side of the dining hall, attracting almost every pair of eyes. The buzzing of the students intensified, and I could see them whipping around in their seats to watch the procession.
No, I didn’t look guilty at all.
The dean and the chief waited for us at the edge of the hall, and I counted primes in my head so my face wouldn’t betray the flurry of panicked thoughts filtering through my mind. I strode calmly, being sure to hold my posture without seeming arrogant.
The officer kept a half step behind me, as if shadowing me should I choose to bolt. He paused as soon as we entered the inner circle of the chief and his assistant. The dean looked at me evenly.
“Good morning.” I initiated the conversation as innocuously as I could.
“Ms. Young,” the chief greeted me.
“Sir,” I replied, reaching my hand out to shake his. I turned to acknowledge the dean with a nod. “Ma’am.”
“Noah, why is Evangeline with you?” the dean asked directly. “I’ve never seen her attend meal times before.”
“We have a project we’re working on together,” I lied effortlessly. “Originally, I was just going to grab some things to go, but it was too cold for her to stay outside. She left her jacket in the library.”
I waved behind me.
“She’s wearing mine right now,” I said simply. “I promised her I’d be quick.”
The dean peered around me, the crow’s feet near her eyes deepening.
“I was unaware you shared any classes with Evangeline.” The dean’s eyes retracted to stare me down.
I swallowed, taking a breath before I answered too quickly.
“That would be my class, Annabeth,” Ms. Xavier said from behind me.
The officer who had escorted me stepped aside to allow Ms. Xavier into the small circle, further obscuring me from my classmates’ prying gazes. I reached up to scratch my nose in an attempt to hide the inch my jaw had dropped at Ms. Xavier’s sudden appearance and seamless exposition of the lie I’d created.
“Teresa,” the dean said in surprise. “What brings you out here on the weekend?”
“As Noah said, I’m overseeing a project,” Ms. Xavier replied. Her eyes glanced around the circle. “What seems to be the problem?”
“Your syllabus was not approved with any projects.” The dean dug in her heels. My finger moved to itch my eyebrow, blocking my amused expression from the group.
“My research project has taken a broader scope than I’d expected. Evangeline is my research assistant for one of her private study hours, and Noah is working off her detention debt to me by helping my assistant,” Ms. Xavier said, a glint in her eyes.
I bit the inside of my cheek, hoping the pain would cloud my expression. Or at least skew it more toward neutral.
So that’s what the notecards had been about.
“Detention in your first week, Ms. Young,” the dean said, her tone icy. “I’m not impressed.”
“I’m sure the situation has been remedied,” Ms. Xavier said, speaking up on my behalf. “I don’t foresee any future problems. Now that that’s all cleared up, could I please have my assistants back? I’m afraid time is of the essence.”
I turned
to check in on Evangeline. Her pallor didn’t look right, although the officer seemed like an attentive guardian.
“Evangeline isn’t looking too good,” I said out loud.
The chief shifted awkwardly, grabbing his utility belt uncomfortably.
“I’m afraid that isn’t a possibility now, ma’am,” the chief said to Ms. Xavier. “We’re in the middle of an investigation.”
“Oh?” Ms. Xavier crossed her arms expectantly.
“Yes, it’s best everyone stay in the dining hall until my team has been able to determine it’s safe to open campus again,” the chief explained, earning him a flashing glare from the dean.
“Safe from what exactly?” Ms. Xavier said. “What exactly is going on, officer?”
“A boy has died,” the chief replied, his gaze shifting to rest solely on me. “And your assistant seems to have been the last one seen with him alive.”
Twenty-Four
I had to give it to Ms. Xavier. She was a ball buster.
“What nonsense are you talking about?” Ms. Xavier said. “You’re telling me a student is dead, and your idea of a thorough investigation is to parade a student in front of her peers based on one witness account.”
“Teresa,” the dean said sharply. “This is highly inappropriate.”
“Yes, I’m glad you finally see that.” Ms. Xavier looked back and forth between the chief and the dean.
“Ma’am, we just need to speak to Ms. Young to clear this all up,” the chief said, his tone unconvincing.
“Oh, I bet,” Ms. Xavier replied. “Is that before or after you build the witch’s pyre out in the quad?”
“Teresa!” the dean said, her eyes glittering dangerously. “That is enough.”
“Annabeth, you can play politics all you like. You’ve got a lot of people to please. I get it.” Ms. Xavier kept her voice thin. Any moment, I expected the tight string of her narrative to snap. I wasn’t the only one hanging on her every word. The officer next to me was trying to school his face, but his eyes were pinging back and forth between each volley just like mine.
