by Sofia Daniel
Ashley lowered her gaze to the parquet floor. “As I’ve said to my sister a hundred times, it was just a bit of name-calling. Nothing untoward happened.”
Anger exploded in my heart, which pumped out gallons of hot blood through my veins. Heat flared across my cheeks and into fingers I wanted to wrap around her scrawny neck. Why would she want to protect those animals, and why hadn’t she called to say she’d changed her mind?
I cleared my throat. “But we—”
“Sorry, officers. I’m not sure what’s wrong with my sister.” Ashley shrugged. “It’s either crying-wolf syndrome or Munchausen’s by proxy. She’s done it before.”
The policewoman flipped open her notebook. “Could you tell us in your own words what happened?”
Ashley stepped aside and let the officers into our room. As I followed after them, the male constable held up a hand. “It’s probably for the best if we interviewed you separately.”
“Right,” I snarled through clenched teeth.
I stood in the hallway, breathing like an agitated bull. All throughout, nausea battered through my insides, making my breaths ragged. After everything that girl had put me through, she had now undermined my previous complaints to the police by portraying me as a fantasist.
Eventually, the door opened, and Ashley strode out of the room with her nose in the air. The police invited me in and wanted to talk about all the complaints I had made in the past. According to Ashley, I had a track record of telling lies to get rivals into trouble.
It took nearly an hour to straighten things out, and after the police left, I turned to Mom and Dad’s smiling portrait.
“See what happens when you try to help Ashley?” Bitterness rolled from the back of my throat and coated the surface of my tongue.
Mom and Dad smiled back.
“She hates me more than she hates those boys. This time I mean it. Ashley and I are no longer sisters. I’m going to stop thinking about her completely.”
I paused as though waiting to see their reactions, but they continued smiling.
“And when she gets expelled, I won’t lift a finger to help.”
The boys weren’t at breakfast, so I walked across the dining room to the scholars’ table and sat with Michelle. Her hair was styled into cornrows with ends that trailed down her back. She and Cora repeated gossip about last night’s events and cast me furtive looks as though to prompt me to add to the conversation.
I wasn’t in the mood to rehash any part of Ashley’s ordeal and subsequent betrayal, so I headed to English, sat in the empty lecture theater with my laptop, and tried to read Corrine’s diary.
A string of nonsensical words danced before my eyes, and I blinked myself back into focus. My head injury had damaged my ability to concentrate on long passages of text, and the software I’d used to translate the numerical Optical Character Recognition readout into letters had produced gibberish.
“I can barely read English, let alone Latin and Spanish,” I muttered.
“What are you doing?” Prakash strolled down the steps.
I slammed the laptop lid. “Translating Gobbledegook.”
“Medieval English?” he asked.
“Worse.” I glanced over my shoulder. “What happened to you guys last night? Cormac and I roamed the academy, and we didn’t see you.”
Prakash pulled out his textbook and flipped to the last subject we had studied. “Miss Claymore interrogated us about what happened. She thought we had started some kind of fight club and wouldn’t listen to anything we said.”
“Really?”
“She is biased against us.”
The bell signifying the end of breakfast rang. Students piled into the lecture theater and filled the seats. I rubbed my temples and stifled a yawn, as sleep had evaded me the night before.
“How long did she keep you?” I asked.
“Nearly two hours.” Leopold settled on my other side. “But she held Seb—”
“Miss Claymore thought I was the ringleader.” Sebastian sat next to Leopold.
“Sorry.” I glanced down at the front, where Miss Claymore stood with her arms folded, glowering in our direction. “I hadn’t thought you’d get into trouble.
“Someone has to take a stand against those rogues before the younger boys start doing the same.”
I shuddered at the thought of innocent little girls being subjected to Ashley’s terrible assault and made a note to explain what really happened to Miss Claymore when we next met for a private lesson.
Chapter 10
Thoughts of what had happened to Ashley receded into the background each day I got closer to Mr. Byrd’s visit. In English class and in the dining room, Bianca shot me triumphant smirks, as though her father would swoop in and fix things. No matter how much I ignored those looks, I couldn’t help browsing through the imposing pictures of Mr. Byrd on his corporate website.
At breakfast on the day of the meeting, Bianca and Geraldine sashayed to the royal table. Bianca wore extra makeup, which created a grown-up appearance, probably meant to intimidate. I focussed on my scrambled eggs on toast, while the kings chatted about their plans for Easter.
Without being acknowledged, Bianca announced, “It’s not too late to change your mind, Pigsty. Call off the police, and you won’t even have to meet my father.”
I straightened in my seat. “What makes you think he can interfere with the course of justice?”
“Byrd and Byrd’s specialty is corporate law, not criminal,” added Prakash.
Bianca’s haughty facade faltered, making me lean forward and take a closer look. Her fingertips trembled, and she swallowed. Twice. Perhaps her father was more likely to punish her for bringing the Byrd name into disrepute than to attack me. Or maybe he would be furious with us both for forcing him away from his busy schedule.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Bianca stuck her nose in the air and flounced away.
I stared at the queens walking out of the dining room in an identical sequence of fast strides and swaying hips, which I was sure they had practiced.
By the end of breakfast, my legs shook so much, it took a few attempts for me to rise from my seat. Mr. Byrd would likely be as ruthless as he appeared in those photos. Bianca had to get that malevolent personality from somewhere.
The walk to Mrs. Benazir’s office was torture. Nausea filled my stomach, swirled up my gullet, and waved its tendrils at the back of my throat. No matter how much I swallowed, it wouldn’t abate.
Leopold walked on my left, and Sebastian walked on my right. Both boys gave me concerned frowns. Even Prakash, who still wasn’t really talking to me for reasons he wouldn’t disclose, trailed behind me.
“Where’s your uncle?” asked Leopold.
“I tried calling him last night, but his phone was off.” I replied.
“Do you have any other relatives?” asked Prakash from behind.
I glanced over my shoulder and met his dark, concerned eyes. “Apart from my aunt? No.”
“It’s going to be two against one,” snarled Sebastian. “They’ll eat you alive.”
Leopold placed a comforting arm around my shoulders. “Just stick to your principles.”
“You don’t have to speak,” said Prakash. “That way, the lawyer won’t run rings around you.”
I pressed my lips together. Part of me bristled that they thought I couldn’t stand up to Bianca and her father—my pride, I supposed. But common sense told me that Mr. Byrd would be a skilled negotiator and excelled at winning arguments and that I should listen to the boys’ warnings.
Turning around, I gave Prakash a smile. “Thanks. If they start acting unreasonable, I’ll stonewall them.”
His eyes softened, and the smile he returned melted my heart. “You have justice on your side. If they try to intimidate you into dropping the charges, it’s illegal.”
With Prakash’s bolstering words, I straightened my spine, pushed my shoulders back, and raised my chin. “Thanks. That’s exactly
what I needed to hear.”
We walked the rest of the way in silence, with my pulse pounding between my ears like a war drum. This was a meeting, not a court of law, and I didn’t have to prove anything. I would go in, listen to what Mr. Byrd had to say, and leave if the man became aggressive.
I knocked on the door, turned the handle, and walked inside. Mrs. Benazir sat at her desk with Bianca seated opposite. Stepping out from a blind spot on the right was a tall, dark-haired man with blue eyes so piercing, they made my stomach churn.
The headmistress stood and glowered at the kings standing at my side. “What are you three doing here?”
“Escorting Miss Evergreen.” Sebastian shouldered his way into the room and walked up to the man. They were of an equal height, but while Sebastian appeared more athletic, he lacked that air of worldliness and danger.
“Sebastian Garraway.” He held out his hand. “I’m delighted to make your acquaintance.”
The man’s eyes widened, but he took Sebastian’s hand. From the hard look in his eyes, I wondered if Sebastian had crushed his bones.
As soon as Sebastian withdrew, Leopold swooped in and grabbed the man’s hand. “Leopold Brunswick. I can’t say I’m pleased to meet you.”
Prakash stepped into the room and folded his arms. “I’m sure you’re aware that intimidating witnesses is a common-law offense. Perverting the course of justice carries a maximum sentence of life imprisonment.”
The older man’s lip curled. “Who are you?”
“Prakash Kashaayah. I believe your firm has branches in Mumbai and Delhi.”
Mr. Byrd narrowed his eyes, as though he didn’t want to admit to ignorance of the Indian operations of his own firm.
“Thank you, boys.” Mrs. Benazir waved her hands back and forth out in a shooing motion. “As the headmistress, it’s my responsibility to act as a guardian in the absence of a student’s parents.”
I dipped my gaze to the ground. From the amounts of cash the school generated from its students, I seriously doubted that the headmistress would act in the interests of anything else but her bank account.
As soon as the door clicked shut, anxiety wrapped around my lungs and stomach like a constrictor. On legs that wouldn’t stop shaking, I walked to the wooden chair next to the one Bianca occupied and sat. My shoulder bag slipped onto the wooden floor with a thud.
Mrs. Benazir also sat, and Mr. Byrd strode behind the headmistress’s desk, taking up the space usually occupied by Miss Claymore.
“Let’s cut through the preamble.” The man placed his palms on the desk and leaned toward me. “This entire incident has been blown out of proportion. Girls playing pranks on each other is not a matter for the police.”
Rage exploded across my vision, and blood roared in my ears. How dare he trivialize what had happened as a mere prank? “The doctor said I would have died if I hadn’t thrown up the alcohol these girls forced down my throat, and the police agreed that it was sexual assault.”
“Oh?” He folded his arms across his chest. “And which of the girls raped you?”
“That’s why the police conducted the forensic exam,” I said from between clenched teeth.
Bianca sighed. “We keep trying to tell you, Willow. You did it to yourself. The only thing I’m guilty of is confiding in another girl who told the whole school.”
My heart continued to pound like a bass drum, its reverberations thrumming against my ribcage. I deepened my breathing and tried to remain calm. Mr. Byrd was twisting things. An unconscious person wouldn’t know which of the many girls had perpetrated the assault.
As I stared at the patterns of wood grain on the desk, Prakash’s warning seeped into the forefront of my mind. If I didn’t keep my mouth closed, Mr. Byrd would probably argue circles around me until I doubted what had happened.
“I put it to you that you performed sex acts with raw meat in an attempt to insinuate yourself into a group of popular girls.” The man let out a dry chuckle. “When your attempts at social climbing backfired, and you became the mockery of the school, you regretted your actions and fabricated a story of an assault to the police.”
“That’s exactly what happened,” Bianca added.
Without raising my gaze from the surface of the desk, I shook my head and let him ramble on. Bianca didn’t tell her father a precise sequence of events, as I had made my statement on the advice of the doctors hours after I had awoken.
“Perhaps you are trying to garner sympathy from wealthy boys, eh? Garraway and Brunswick are part of the establishment. Maybe your little stunt is your way of securing yourself a lucrative marriage?”
Bianca let out a theatrical gasp as though adding drama and realism to the accusation.
My nostrils flared, but I clamped my lips together. How did that even make sense in his twisted mind?
Mrs. Benazir huffed. “I didn’t allow this meeting to take place for you to malign the reputation and intentions of a promising young student.”
The tension around my insides receded a little at her defense, but I remained quiet. He could rant and accuse all he wanted, but nothing would change my mind.
Maybe if the queens got into trouble for what they did to me, the knights would think twice before subjecting another girl to the disgusting assault they committed on Ashley.
“What about Geraldine and me?” Bianca whined. “We didn’t do anything wrong, but the police want us to give them genetic samples. What about our reputations?”
Mr. Byrd snarled. “Miss Evergreen is nothing but an opportun—”
Someone knocked on the door and opened it a few inches. “Mrs. B,” said the male voice. “There’s an incident in the swimming block that requires your urgent attention.”
The headmistress stood. “Miss Byrd, would you see your father out, please?”
As Mrs. Benazir hurried toward the door, I bolted out of my seat. If that nasty father and daughter combination wanted to spew more lies and shit, they could do it without me as an audience.
The headmistress and the caretaker broke out into a sprint, and I followed after them at a brisk walk, wondering if the younger students had committed a copycat act in response to the attack on Ashley. If I galloped up the stairs, I’d still be able to catch most of Miss Weir’s lecture. Fortunately, I had brought my textbooks—
My bag. In my haste not to be left alone with Bianca and Mr. Byrd, I’d left it in Mrs. Benazir’s office.
I hurried back, opened the door a crack just as the air filled with the sound of a palm striking flesh. Bianca spun and landed face-down on the desk.
I sucked in a deep breath and clapped my hand over my mouth.
Without moving from her position on the desk, Bianca sobbed. “I’m sorry, Papa!”
Mr. Byrd flipped up her green skirt, exposing a lacy, red thong. I stiffened, bracing myself to see a hard spanking, but instead, he stroked her buttocks. “You’ll be sorry when I’ve finished with you.”
The clink of metal from a belt unbuckling made my stomach lurch. Would Mr. Byrd whip her with his belt?
Bianca whimpered. “Someone might see.”
He chuckled and ran a finger between her buttocks, making Bianca flinch. “Mrs. Benazir knows to mind her own business. Besides, the swimming block is—”
“My bag!” Without thinking, I bolted forward.
Mr. Byrd jumped away from his daughter. Bianca straightened and turned around. The pair of them glowered at me—hatred and suspicion burned in the father’s eyes, and fear shimmered in the daughter’s.
Nausea overtook my senses, and my head pounded in time with my clattering heart. What had I just seen? Maybe I hadn’t interpreted the situation right. Some parents spanked their children. One time, Ashley and I were fighting, and Dad spanked us both, saying that sisters should be united against the world. Since that moment, neither of us lifted a finger against the other.
A tiny voice in the back of my mind told me I was deluding myself. No normal father would slap their daughter in th
e face, and no normal father would lift her skirt to caress her buttocks.
My legs shook as I edged toward my bag.
Tension quivered through Mr. Byrd’s posture, reminding me of a panther about to strike. I kept my gaze on the man even as I knelt to pick up my bag. My numb hands fumbled around the ground for signs of the fabric until my fingers closed around the strap.
As I rose, neither of them spoke. Neither of them moved. Neither of them changed expression. But their eyes followed my backward retreat through Mrs. Benazir’s office.
It wasn’t until the door clicked shut that I galloped through the hallway toward the west wing. The image of that large, groping hand on Bianca’s buttock played itself over and over in my mind until I reached the top of the stairs and doubled over to catch my breath.
I braced my hands on my knees and panted out loud and deep. There was no way Mr. Byrd didn’t know I’d just discovered his perverted secret, and my stomach lurched at the thought of what he would do to ensure my silence.
My recent experience with the knights’ assault on Ashley told me that reporting it wouldn’t amount to anything. That was a decision for Bianca, and I would be willing to offer a witness statement if she asked. Straightening, I ran a trembling hand through my hair, let out a shuddering breath, and walked to my room.
Someone shoved me hard against the wall. A glance over my shoulder told me it was Bianca. “I don’t know what you thought you saw in Mrs. Benazir’s office,” she snarled, “but you’re going to forget it.”
“He was—”
“Shut up,” she hissed. “It was just a slap.”
“It wasn’t,” I whispered.
She stuck her knee into my hamstrings, making me cry out. “I said, shut up.”
My nostrils flared. Why was she angry with me? I shoved my body weight against her front, and she staggered back several paces and hit the opposite wall. “Why are you trying to silence me when your father—”
“Someone tried to murder you,” she blurted, snatching my attention away from the subject of Mr. Byrd’s molesting hands. “If you’re not careful and don’t stop sticking your nose into places it doesn’t belong, your enemy will strike again.”
