Most of the girls were already gone, but Jessica and Brett were still waiting by their lockers. She dressed quickly, and they made their way back out to the field. The Graff team had started their test, and she scanned the players until she saw Jeremy’s shaggy blonde head a few inches above the rest. He was in the middle of a 300-yard shuttle, and she felt her cheeks flush as she flashed back to Friday night. She looked away, putting the image out of her mind.
As they passed the bleachers, Coach Fitz waved at them to stop.
“Marlowe, can you come up here for a minute?”
Sadie looked at Brett and Jessica, who both shrugged.
“You passed,” Jessica said. “What’s the worst she can do?”
Sadie sighed. “See you back at the dorms, then?” They nodded and waved. She watched their backs as they made their way down the sideline, then turned into the aisle.
“Have a seat, Sadie,” Coach said, her face expressionless behind her dark sunglasses. Sadie sat down and swallowed, trying not to think about the answer to Jessica’s question.
“So, how have you been settling in?”
“Everything’s been good so far,” Sadie said slowly, anxious to see where this was going. “I’m still adjusting, but classes have been going okay.” When the coach didn’t respond she added, “The girls all seem really great, too.” That part was a lie.
“Good. Glad to hear that.” Coach pulled off her sunglasses and smiled. “I wanted you to know I was impressed with you today. It’s rare for a transfer to come in so well prepared, and you definitely proved that you worked hard over the summer.”
Sadie exhaled, feeling the stress finally leaving her body.
“I saw some game film from the Oregon State Championships last year, and you have a lot of potential. You’ll still need to earn your place on the starting squad — your scholarship doesn’t guarantee you playing time — but I’m confident that you can do that, as long as you’re willing to work hard.” She looked at Sadie and raised her eyebrows. “Are you?”
“Absolutely, Coach,” Sadie said, a smile spreading across her face. “Lacrosse is the reason I’m here.”
“That’s what I was hoping to hear.” She leaned down and grabbed two items out of a box at her feet, then handed them to Sadie. They were two articles of clothing — a kelly-green tank top and a black pleated skirt. Sadie bit her lip to keep from grinning as Coach slipped her sunglasses back on. “See you next Saturday,” Coach said.
Chapter 11
The next few weeks passed by in a blur. Sadie went to class, ate her meals with the team, and spent nights studying in the lobby with Jessica and Brett. A few nights a week after curfew, she would sneak out for a run along the water. But she didn’t see Jeremy again. She tried to pretend she wasn’t hoping to run into him, but it was always in the back of her mind.
On Sunday nights she would call her dad and tell him about the week. He would ask about lacrosse practice and tell her a few stories about what was going on in Portland. He would make jokes about how strange her classmates must be, and she would deflect them so he wouldn’t worry, all the while thinking in her head that he had no idea how right he really was. Thayer hadn’t spoken to her about anything other than lacrosse since that first practice, and that was just fine with her.
One Saturday morning, the dining hall was oddly empty before practice. Not a single one of her teammates was there yet, even Brett who was always so early for everything that Sadie wondered if she ever even slept. Sadie sat down to eat a bagel, but by the time she was done she was still alone. And nervous.
Thayer hadn’t tried to mess with her in weeks, but maybe she had just been waiting until her guard was down. For all she knew, Coach had scheduled an earlier scrimmage and Sadie had conveniently been left off the e-mail chain. The thought made her feel ill. She gathered up her things and jogged all the way to the field.
It was empty. The field was completely still except for a few early fall leaves that tumbled in the wind. She sank down onto the lowest bleacher and dug her phone out of her pocket.
“Where are you? No one’s at the field,” she texted Jessica.
Her response came back a few minutes later: “Canceled. Don’t you check your e-mail? Go back to sleep, you skank. XOXO”
Sadie shook her head. She had checked her e-mail, and apparently she had been conveniently left off the chain — again. She started the walk back toward the woods. As far as pranks went, this was pretty weak, even for Thayer.
At the edge of the trees, she stopped. There was a small white envelope pinned to the trunk of one of the oaks that lined the path. Her name was embossed on the front in big, black letters.
Sadie looked around uneasily, but everything was still. She walked closer. Inside the envelope was a piece of heavy cream stationery with a note.
You’ve proven your worth. Now give us a chance to prove ours.
The locker room. 9 A.M.
It wasn’t signed, but Sadie knew who it was from. Them. The Order of Optimates, or whatever the hell their dumb name was.
Sadie let her head fall back and stared at the sky. The practical part of her — the part that knew reality TV was the beginning of the end and that Wheaties covered in her usual two scoops of sugar probably wasn’t actually the breakfast of champions — knew she didn’t want anything to do with whoever had written that note. But she had to admit she was a little curious. What kind of group would go to all the trouble they had to scare her? Who were they? What did they want?
For a moment she played with the idea of going along with it, just to find out more. Then she saw Thayer’s face in her mind — or at least, the shadow of Thayer’s face buried under her black hood — and she heard those words again. Was your mother a whore?
Sadie ripped the paper in half and dropped it on the ground, making sure to leave a muddy footprint across its face as she continued down the path.
“Sadie, stop.”
She knew that voice, but it wasn’t the one she was expecting. She whirled around angrily to see Brett standing behind her, breathing heavily with a pleading look on her face.
“Don’t do this. You don’t know what you’re giving up.”
Sadie shook her head slowly. “You’re one of them?”
Brett took a step forward and reached out to her. “Yes, but it’s not what you think — ”
“Okay, so you guys didn’t kidnap me, strap me to a chair in a dark, scary room, and try to humiliate me in front of a room full of people?” Sadie’s voice cracked, and she took a breath. The next sentence came out softer — angrier. “And your creepy friend didn’t choke me until I almost passed out? ’Cause that’s what I think.”
Brett’s whole body seemed to sag. “You’re right. You’re completely, 100 percent right. The whole ceremony is ridiculous. And the Moirae are assholes.” She held up her hands. “I’m not one of them, I promise. But it’s just the way we do things. It’s been that way for a long time.”
Sadie wasn’t impressed. “Look, I just don’t want anything to do with it, okay? Pick someone else.” She turned away from Brett and kept walking.
“We can’t. It has to be you.”
“Whatever,” Sadie called over her shoulder. “Still don’t care.”
“You were chosen by blood, Sadie. You’re a legacy.”
She said the words so quietly that Sadie barely caught them. She stopped.
“What did you just say?”
Brett took a step closer. “Your mom was one of us.”
Sadie shook her head. “No way. I don’t believe you.” From what she could remember, her mom wasn’t exactly the kind of person who would have joined something as pretentious and ridiculous as a secret sorority.
“I can prove it.”
“But she was nobody. She was here on scholarship, just like me.”
Brett frowned. “Sadie that’s not — ” She cut herself off, a frown deepening between her eyebrows. “Look, the others can explain everything.” She could see S
adie weakening, and she smiled encouragingly. “Just give us a chance. Hang out with me today. We’re not doing anything scary. No ropes, no polygraph, no dark rooms, I promise.”
“No Thayer?”
Brett bit her lip to hide a smile and shook her head.
“Fine. But I swear, any tricks and I will never speak to you again. Seriously.”
Brett grinned widely and grabbed her arm. “Deal. Now come on — I have some things I want to show you.”
Inside, the locker room was completely dark. Brett positioned Sadie in the center of the room and ran off down the hallway.
“Ready?” she called.
“That depends,” Sadie yelled back.
The lights flipped on. On the floor in front of Brett’s locker were three enormous shopping bags with brand names Sadie had only ever seen in magazines. Hanging inside was a long black garment bag and the most beautiful ivory wool coat Sadie had ever seen. It definitely looked like something Brett would wear. And something Sadie would defile with ketchup or coffee (or both) within about five seconds.
Sadie frowned. “You went shopping?” She couldn’t figure out why Brett would go to so much trouble just to show off her haul.
Brett appeared back in the doorway with a big grin on her face. “You are so weird sometimes, Sadie.” She swept an arm toward her locker. “It’s not for me — it’s all yours. Now change. We need to hurry if we’re going to make it to the pad in time.”
Brett set to work tearing apart the shopping bags and throwing items of clothing at Sadie. She struggled into a slinky cashmere dress that fit her like it had been hand knitted by magical fairies, a pair of chocolate suede ankle booties, and a drapey gold necklace and matching earrings. From the last bag, Brett lifted a huge purse that she cradled as carefully as a newborn.
She handed it to Sadie, her voice dropping to a deferential whisper. “Do you know what this is?”
Sadie shrugged. “A bag?”
Brett gasped and hugged the purse to her chest. “Do not let it hear you say that.” She shook her head, then handed it over. “Just be careful with it. Samantha French carries that handbag, you know.”
Sadie barely had time to loop the bag over her shoulder and glance in the mirror before Brett dragged her out the door.
“This is a joke, right? Are you tricking me into being a contestant on a dating show or something, ’cause I’m not really interested in dating a thirty-year-old with Ken-doll hair, spray-on abs, and the personality of a cardboard cutout.”
Brett laughed. “It’s just faster, okay? It’s not like we do this all the time.” She hopped up into the helicopter and extended a hand for Sadie. “Are you ready to see what you’re getting yourself into?”
Sadie paused. The chopper blades were whirring overhead, and the sound made her feel dizzy and heady. For a moment, she wondered how the heck she had ever gotten to this moment, standing on a helicopter pad in $600 shoes. In the next second, she decided that right then, she didn’t really care.
“Come on, Sadie,” Brett said again. “You’re ready for this.” Sadie took her hand and let herself be pulled on board.
A shiny black car met them on the outskirts of D.C. The driver tipped his hat to Brett and took off without even waiting for a destination.
As they settled into the plush seats, green forests gave way to shining metal and glass downtown, then the redbrick row houses of historic Georgetown. They kept driving, winding up into rolling hills. Finally, they pulled up to a modern wrought-iron gate that stretched between two stone pillars. The driver mumbled a few words into an intercom, and the gate swung open.
A huge stone mansion unfolded in front of them, surrounded on all sides by manicured lawns. The house had a wide porch that was lined with benches and rocking chairs, and the grass was dotted with cherry trees. People in pairs milled around the grounds or sat in the cool shade of the porch, some reading or playing games. The sun was shining and a cool breeze ruffled the ivy that clung to the mansion’s walls. It looked like paradise.
“Where are we?” Sadie asked, looking closer at a nearby man and woman until she realized why they all looked so similar. They were all wearing the same subtle shades of blue, green, and lavender. Hospital patients.
Brett just linked an arm through hers and led her up the brick path toward the door.
“I want to show you what you have a chance to be a part of. All the good we do — all the good you can do if you become one of us. You ready?”
Sadie nodded, and they passed through the doors into a cool, high-ceilinged foyer. There was a small reception desk on one side, and a young woman in a pale blue sweater smiled up at them. Above her on the wall hung a brass plaque engraved with the words, “Enlighten the people, and tyranny and oppressions of body and mind will vanish like spirits at the dawn of day.”
“Good afternoon, Ms. Whitney. Will you be touring the North Wing today?”
Brett nodded and the woman clicked on her headset and dialed. As she waited, the woman kept stealing glances in Sadie’s direction until she started to squirm. Finally she murmured a few words, then hung up.
“You’re all set. Dr. Kent will meet you on the second-floor landing.” She turned to Sadie and smiled again, with just a hint of something playing at the edge of her features. Sadie couldn’t put her finger on it, but she looked almost … excited. “Welcome to Dawning House, Ms. Marlowe. Please let me know if I can assist you with anything at all during your time here.”
Sadie thanked her and followed Brett up a curving staircase. The click of her new heels echoed loudly against the marble.
Dr. Kent was petite and brunette, and she wore a stylish wrap dress under her white lab coat. She shook both of their hands and smiled broadly. “Good to see you, Ms. Whitney. We missed you over the summer.” She turned to Sadie. “Your friend’s been a great help to us here at Dawning. I hear you are also interested in volunteering at the center?”
Sadie paused, and Brett squeezed her elbow just slightly. “Yes, definitely. It’s a beautiful facility.” The doctor seemed pleased, and she gestured for them to follow as she clicked off down a long gleaming hallway.
First, she led them down the hall to a large, high-ceilinged room decked out with comfortable chairs, couches, a large-screen TV, and Ping-Pong tables. “One of our many patient lobbies,” she said, gesturing toward the TV. “As you can see, our patients are never bored.” She smiled, and Sadie noticed the center had every gaming console she could think of.
Dr. Kent ushered them back into the hallway, but not before Sadie noticed something that flooded her mind with uncomfortable memories. The huge, antique-paned windows were beautiful, but they were also lined with metal bars. Sadie swallowed the memories back down and cleared her throat.
“What kind of patients do you typically have here, Dr. Kent?”
Dr. Kent whirled around, stopping suddenly in her path. “Typically, we handle substance abuse cases, but we are open to healing of all kinds.”
Sadie blinked. “So this is a mental hospital.”
Brett coughed uncomfortably next to her, but the doctor seemed unfazed. “We prefer to think of ourselves as a comfortable environment that is most conducive to mental, emotional, and physical healing.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “But yes, that would be correct in the common vernacular.” She smiled again and practically bounced down the hallway. “Now come on, I’d love to show you our new patient rooms.”
They spent another half hour touring the hospital, but with every new room there was a new memory. The cheerfully painted hallways triggered flashes of cold linoleum, and the clean, crisp white linens in the bedrooms made her see dingy municipal hospital sheets. Every detail was soothing and beautiful. She couldn’t wait to leave.
When they finally said goodbye and emerged onto the porch, the sunshine soaked into her skin like a salve. “Mind giving me a sec? I’m just going to run to the ladies’.” Brett hurried back inside, and Sadie sank down gratefully onto a small wooden bench.
A patient and one of the nurses shuffled by in front of the porch, and the woman stared at Sadie with wide, unblinking eyes.
Sadie nodded hello, and the woman smiled back. “Don’t let them take you into the basement,” she said, the smile still plastered across her face.
The nurse put an arm around the woman’s shoulders and ushered her away. He looked back at Sadie and gave her a sympathetic smile. “Alzheimer’s,” he mouthed.
Sadie leaned back and closed her eyes. In the dark behind her eyelids she saw the last time she visited her mom. She had waited in the hallway outside her room for a long time, watching hollow-eyed nurses shuffling back and forth with papers and pills. When her dad finally waved her inside, she barely even recognized her mother — so pale and thin inside her papery white robe. She had been so heavily medicated she barely knew who Sadie was. Her dad didn’t say a word the entire way home.
Sadie tried to focus on taking deep breaths, each one pushing the memory back down a little farther, but something interrupted her thoughts. Someone was crying.
A few yards away on the porch was a little girl Sadie hadn’t noticed before — no more than eight or nine — sitting with her knees drawn up underneath her. She had tears streaming down her cheeks.
Sadie looked around, but none of the staff members were close by. She stood up and took a few steps toward the girl.
“Are you okay?”
The little girl didn’t respond. She just stared out into the garden, her eyes glassy with tears. Sadie sat down next to her.
“You know, I still remember what it was like.” Sadie paused, and the girl sniffled again. “Visiting.”
The girl turned, and for the first time Sadie saw how piercing and blue her eyes were. The girl wiped a hand across her cheek, rubbing away the tears. “Who were you visiting?”
“My mom.”
“Me too,” the little girl said, her voice small.
Poor Little Dead Girls Page 9
