Molly shook her head, backing away in terror. Was he dead? Had he had a heart attack or something? She raced toward the front doors of the estate. “Help! Help!”
Inside she found Jolie, Oriana, and Gretchen in the sitting room talking while they waited for breakfast to begin. All three stood up, wide-eyed. “Ms. Dillinger,” Oriana said. “Is everything okay?”
“No! Everything is not okay.” She pointed toward the front door. “It’s Randolph—I think he may be dead. At least, he’s not breathing.”
The girls relaxed. Gretchen took her place on the couch. “Ms. Dillinger, it’s okay. Randolph isn’t real.”
“What do you mean he isn’t real?” Molly had spoken to him. He had carried her boxes from her apartment. He wasn’t simply some figment of her imagination.
Oriana smiled warmly. “Ms. Bea created him. She only turns him on when she needs him to drive her somewhere. Any other time he just sits in the carriage and waits.”
“Oh, so he’s like a robot or something?”
“Kind of,” Jolie replied. “He runs on her magic. It’s really more humane that way.”
Molly frowned. “What do you mean?”
Jolie wrapped a lock of hair around her finger and took a seat beside Gretchen. “Well, she only uses him about once a week, so rather than bringing another person here to be trapped only for that purpose, she created Randolph. He’s not real, so he doesn’t care about being her chauffeur forever.”
“Oh, I guess that makes sense,” Molly said. She added that to the list of strange things about the academy.
Class that morning was rather eventful. The girls wanted to know about everything there was to do on the outside for fun.
“Do they still have those traveling carnivals?” Drusilla asked. “I want to go to one so badly.”
“What about the drive-ins?” Oriana asked. “Do they still have those?”
“A few,” Molly replied, “but they’re not that big of a thing.” She told them all about carnivals, and circuses, and places where you could go to play video games or eat pizza. They spent a little time talking about breaking the curses, but not enough. Molly felt guilty since that was their main priority, but truth be told, she had no idea what to do next.
“Are you coming to the Everly Ball?” Tress asked.
“What’s the Everly Ball?”
“It takes place on the last Friday of every month in the ball room,” Oriana answered. “We get all dressed up, and we get our hair and nails done. There’s food and drinking and dancing. It’s a lot of fun.”
“That does sound fun,” Molly said.
Marina grinned. “But she didn’t tell you the best part. The part about the boys.”
“Boys?” Molly asked. “Ms. Bea allows boys to come here?”
The girls giggled and exchanged glances. “Yeah,” Marina replied. “You’ll see.” Her eyes went up to the clock on the wall. “Class is over. Are we dismissed?”
“Uh, yeah,” Molly said, even though she wanted to know more about the Everly ball. She guessed she would find out more come Friday night.
After class, Ms. Bea came by the great study just as the girls were leaving. “Ms. Dillinger, I think it’s time I introduce you to the glamour room.”
“The glamour room?”
“Yes. It’s a room where a girl can get everything she wants. There’s a seamstress, a makeup artist, and a hair dresser at your complete disposal. The girls get the clothes they want designed to fit their choice of style. You can also.”
Molly followed Bea to a room at the end of the hall. Once she stepped through the doorway, she was speechless. It was like nothing Molly could have imagined. There was a huge mirror with a makeup station. Dress forms scattered throughout were draped with different materials. A section looked like a hair stylist’s station. A woman with vivid purple hair was busy using a curling iron on a mannequin’s head.
Bea introduced Molly to the women. Each one of them had heavily made faces and hair of different colors. A woman with lavender hair clapped her hands. “Oh, yes! A new muse.”
A woman with neon-orange hair grasped Molly’s hands and set her in a chair. “I’m Ember. Let me give you a nice trim while Anais here gives you a touch of makeup. You don’t need much.” Ember’s hair was pulled back into a high ponytail. It was so long and bright it would make a unicorn jealous. A diamond stud nose ring glistened in her left nostril, and small hoop earrings decorated the entire edge of both her ears.
Molly was never one who went overboard with hair and makeup. She liked to look nice and took pride in that, but what girl didn’t want a good makeover?
Molly took a seat and let the woman work her magic. She ran her fingers through her short curls before Ember began. “Not too much off the top, please.”
Ember squeezed her shoulders. “Don’t worry, hon. I know just what to do.”
Molly closed her eyes as Anais covered her face with foundation, blush, mascara, and eyeshadow. Anais’s lavender hair fell to her shoulders in soft curls. Her gray eyes were heavily lined and cat-like. “Your skin is immaculate.”
“Thank you,” Molly replied. She had never received that compliment before.
After that, Cinnamon, the seamstress, took her measurements. Cinnamon’s hair was a dark, mossy green and went bone-straight down her back. She held different colored fabrics up to Molly’s skin, making faces Molly wasn’t sure how to decipher. “I will whip you up a rack of pants and blouses in no time.” By the time the stylists were done working their magic on Molly, she felt like a new woman. She had just enough time to change into her sweats and go for a jog before dinner.
Molly was in her groove, running along the edge of the forest when a sharp whistle brought her out of her train of thought. It was Owen. He and his father were lugging something heavy to the back of their pickup truck. “Looking good there, Ms. Dillinger,” he called.
Molly blushed, waved, and continued to run. Next thing she knew, she was surprised by the sounds of someone running behind her. She looked over her shoulder to see Owen trying to catch up to her. Molly laughed. “I told my mother this new haircut would have all the boys chasing me.”
Owen laughed as he fell in step with Molly. His green eyes twinkled in the setting sun. “This is a new concept for me.”
“What’s that?” Molly asked.
“Running when there’s nothing chasing me.”
Molly didn’t mean to, but she allowed her eyes to travel down Owen’s muscular body. He must have done something to stay in shape, or perhaps it was just all the manual labor he did around the estate. Owen’s presence was totally breaking her concentration, but she didn’t mind.
“I see someone had taken a trip to the glamour room.”
Molly stopped running. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Owen smirked. “Not that you needed it, but your eyelids are painted, and your hair looks a little different and your cheeks are pinker, and your eyelashes are longer.”
Yes, Anais had applied a pair of fake eyelashes. Molly had always thought false lashes were a bit much, but she was open to trying something new. She wasn’t sure how she felt about Owen noticing all that. On one hand it was nice that he had been paying close enough attention to her to make note of the subtle changes, yet she didn’t want him to think she was trying to impress anyone.
Molly started to jog again. She only had fifteen minutes if she wanted to shower before dinner, or she would be late. “How’s the curse breaking coming?” Owen asked.
Molly suddenly felt like the weight of the world had been added to her shoulders. She needed a break from it. The curse was something she’d rather not talk about with Owen. She wanted him to be her escape from all that.
“I’m completely overwhelmed, and I feel like I’m failing these girls. I really don’t even know where to start. I’m sure there’s so much I don’t know.”
“You’ll figure something out,” Owen said. “Ms. Bea wouldn’t have risked bringin
g you into our secret world if she didn’t believe you could.”
That should have made Molly feel better, but it didn’t. “What about the other teachers she brought here? I’m sure she believed in them too. They spent their lives at this academy, wasted away, and the girls are still where they started. I don’t want that to happen to me.”
Owen grabbed Molly’s elbow and squeezed it gently, sending chills up and down her spine. “Don’t worry about what happened to the other teachers. You’re different. I can tell. We can all tell. You’re going to be the one who’s going to figure it out. You’re going to be the reason we all finally get to leave this place.”
Molly stared deep into Owen’s eyes. It had only occurred to her then that he probably wanted out just as much as she did, if not more since he’d been there longer. This wasn’t just about her and the girls. Still, the boulder on her shoulders felt a bit heavier after that comment. So many people were depending on her to fix this, and she had no idea where to start. She thought back to the meeting of the Midnight Society. Molly thought back to Lily’s words from the night before. “Allison knows something. There’s something she’s trying to tell us, and that something may change everything.”
After dinner Molly and the girls gathered in the sitting room before the fireplace. As before, they all nuzzled cups of warm cocoa or coffee. The fireplace roared, casting a comforting warmth over the room. It was perfect for the cool autumn evening. The great dragon’s mouth no longer looked fierce and terrifying. It looked friendly and inviting. Molly figured it was all how you looked at it.
“Why don’t we show Ms. Dillinger what this fireplace can really do?” Bea said. She had removed her shoes and had her feet tucked beneath her on the sofa. “Dru?”
Dru grinned and moved from her spot in between Marina and a placid Allison. Isleen and Tress were seated side by side on the floor before the couch, and even Isleen had a look of calmness about her. Molly watched as Dru took a poker from its holder and stoked the fire. All at once the flames and embers formed a swirling circle. Dru put the poker back in its spot and took her seat.
“Let see who the fire chooses tonight,” Bea said.
Molly had no idea what she meant by that, but it didn’t seem the right time to ask.
Molly gasped as the flames took the shape of a boy and a girl. The others, while amusement danced across their faces, didn’t seem surprised by the fiery magic. The boy and girl were soon joined by a man with a tall, bulky stature. Molly could make out the shape of tall trees—a forest. The man was cutting down a tree with an ax. “Father,” Gretchen said quietly.
The flames continued to tell her tale. A woman soon joined the picture. By the way she bent over and placed her hands on her hips, Molly could tell she wasn’t very nice. Gretchen’s body tensed. The family lived in a cottage. One day the family was going on a walk in the forest. On their walk, the boy and girl dropped pebbles behind them. They were left behind in the woods, but they were able to find their way back, following the trail of rocks. The man and the woman took the children out into the woods again, but this time, much farther away from their home. They made the trip at night, so it would be harder for the kids to find their way back. The two children made of fire kept walking along until they stumbled upon a house made of candy. Famished from being out in the woods for so long, they immediately devoured pieces of the house.
“Your father was a wimp,” Isleen said, watching the children eat pieces of candy bigger than their heads. “He should have stood up to your stepmother instead of letting her talk him into leaving his own children, his own flesh and blood, in the woods.”
Gretchen jumped up from the sofa, jabbing her finger angrily at Isleen. “You take that back right now before I shove that tiara down your throat!”
Isleen smirked at her. “The truth hurts, but it is indeed the truth. My father would have never.”
Molly had to agree with Isleen on that one. She’d always wondered how a father could do that to his own children, but she also understood that no one wanted to hear another person speak ill of their loved ones no matter what they’d done. When Molly had first read the story of Hansel and Gretel, she’d always thought the father should have gotten rid of his evil wife. Why did she have to die for him to be able to take his children back?
Molly noticed how the story had paused while the girls argued. “Ladies, please,” Bea said firmly. “You know very well there is no talking during a fireplace story.” Everyone quieted down, but instead of the story continuing, something else took shape in the fireplace.
It took Molly a few seconds to make out the figure. A fat cat. The cat had a long, curved tail and grinned eerily at them. Everyone groaned.
“Ugh, this damn cat,” Oriana cursed. “What do you want now, Cheshire?”
The cat grinned even bigger. “Ewww, this place gets uglier and uglier every time I see it. You would think Beatrix, the great and powerful fairy, could conjure up a decent interior designer.”
Allison, who had been still and silent this whole time, began to moan and rock back and forth. Dru and Marina put their arms around her and held her tightly. “How is a raven like a writing desk?” the cat asked.
Bea climbed to her bare feet and walked toward the fire. “Whatever you want, Chessy, get to the point. We don’t have time to entertain your nonsensical riddles which have no answers that you ask us over and over again.”
The cat rolled over on his back and purred, still bearing a sinister smile. Molly had just met the thing and she wanted to knock the smile off his face. “How rude. So much for making a guest feel welcomed. I have a message from the witches of the Moonhaven Coven.”
Allison leaned forward and covered her ears. The cat seemed to take pleasure in that. “Oh, my darling Allison. I almost didn’t see you there, dear. Then again how could I miss you rocking back and forth like a nutcase? Forever a pathetic mess.”
“Don’t talk to her,” Lily yelled. “Deliver your stupid message and get out of here.”
The cat made a tisking sound. “Fine, fine. Once again, they want to warn you that time is running short. The one hundredth blood moon can happen any day now. They also want you to know that they will be delivering a special gift just for the fairy godmother very soon. It looks like Christmas is coming early.”
Molly felt ill. What did that mean? She didn’t know much about witches, but she did know that any gift from a witch was most probably a curse and not a gift at all.
“Is that all?” Scarlett asked.
The cat purred and licked its paws. “That is all, silly, stupid girls . . . oh, but I do have one last question for my dear Allison. How is a raven like a writing desk? How is a raven like a writing desk? How is a raven like a writing desk?” The question got louder and louder each time, even though the Cheshire was fading into the flames. Each time he repeated the riddle, Allison’s screams grew. She thrashed around. Scarlett threw her coffee mug into the fire. It shattered, and the awful cat disappeared.
“Oh, dear,” Bea said, watching the girls try to calm Allison down. “We’d better get Dr. Meyer to give her something.”
“No!” Lily shouted. “Please, let us help her.”
Bea thought it over. “Fine, but if she doesn’t calm down in a minute, I’ll have to get him.”
Bea looked to Molly. “The Cheshire gives Allison flashbacks to whatever happened to her when she was in Wonderland.”
After a couple of minutes of soothing and rubbing her back, the girls were able to calm Allison to the point where she had stopped screaming, but she was now laying her head on Marina’s lap and rocking herself back and forth while making soft moaning sounds. Molly was touched by how patient they were and how much they cared for her. She was glad Bea hadn’t called for Dr. Meyer.
Once Allison was calm and everyone had retired to their rooms, Molly made her way to her own bedroom. She intended to write in her journal and get some reading done. She wondered what her family was doing and how worried they had to
be about her. They had probably called the police and reported her as a missing person by then. There was no way Mrs. Dillinger was going to fall for the letter Bea had sent. Molly felt sick to her stomach at the thought of her family worrying about her whereabouts. She wished there were some way she could tell them that she was alive and not to be concerned.
Molly fished her key from the pocket of her dress and pushed it into the lock. Once she’d flicked on the lights, she was surprised to see Dr. Meyer perched in the chair beside her bed. “Dr. Meyer, what are you doing here?”
He coughed. “I wanted to have a private conversation with you.”
Molly stepped into her bedroom and looked back at the door. “How did you get in here? The door was locked.”
“I have keys to all the rooms,” he answered. “In case there is a medical emergency and I need to get in.”
“That makes sense, but I’m not having a medical emergency right now, am I?”
The doctor nodded. “No. But Allison is. This visit is about her. Please close the door so we can talk.”
Reluctantly Molly did as she was told. She didn’t feel comfortable closing herself off in the room with the doctor. Something about his current demeanor was off. He gave off a nervous energy and couldn’t seem to look her in the eye. Still, she did want to hear what he had to say. She sat on the edge of her bed a few feet away from Dr. Meyer. “So, talk.”
“The other day, Bea came to me and said that you had some concerns about Allison and the dosages I’ve been giving her.”
“Yes. I did.”
Dr. Meyer sat up straighter in his chair. “May I ask what makes you qualified to make the assumptions and suggestions you’ve been making? Where did you study psychiatry?”
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