by Anna Carey
Page 47
“You’re lying to my face. ” She laughed. “You expect me to believe that you got over that wall by yourself?”
So she thought I had scaled it. That was impossible—it was nearly thirty feet high—and yet I didn’t correct her, saw my opening and went with it. “I had found rope in the Teacher’s closet. Yards of it. I cut my arm on the wire on top. ” I showed her where the warehouse door had sliced my skin when I was trying to escape the Lieutenant. The scar was still pink.
She tilted her head as if considering it. “How did you know about the Graduates?” she asked.
“I’d always had suspicions,” I said coolly. The control was shifting, my voice calmer as each question was answered to her satisfaction. “But it doesn’t matter how I escaped. What matters is that I’m here. And I addressed the girls. I explained away my disappearance and spoke highly about your School. Tomorrow morning, I’d like to see my friends. ”
“That cannot be arranged,” she said quickly. She stood and went to the window, her arms crossed over her chest. Outside, the compound was dark. A few lamps shone on the top of the wall, the barbed wire glinting in the light. “That would raise all sorts of questions. It would confuse the students. ”
“Wouldn’t it be more confusing for them if I left for the City and never returned, if I didn’t even want to see my friends to know how they were doing in their trade school across the lake?”
Headmistress Burns faced me. She let out a deep breath, her thumb running over the thick veins on the back of her hand. I stared at the figurines lined up on her shelf—shiny, garish children that seemed menacing now, their features contorted in a strange, unnatural ecstasy. She didn’t speak for a long while.
“Do I have to remind you that one day I will be Queen?” I hardened my voice as I said it.
Her face changed then. She took a few steps forward, her nose scrunching as if she’d caught a whiff of something rotten. “Fine. You will see your friends tomorrow. ” She turned to the door and opened it, indicating that I should leave.
I stood, smoothing my dress. “Thank you, Headmistress,” I said, trying to keep from smiling. I strode out the door and down the dark corridor, feeling my way as I had so many times before.
“But remember, Eve,” she called when I’d nearly reached the stairs. She was still standing in the doorway, the lantern casting shadows on her face. “You aren’t Queen yet. ”
thirty-nine
BY THE FOLLOWING MORNING, THE STORM HAD CLEARED. I took the bridge one step at a time, feeling the thin wood planks give slightly beneath my feet. It was just wider than my shoulders, with ropes strung up on either side; a lightweight thing extended over the lake’s still surface. Joby, one of the School guards, followed behind me. I glanced back every so often at the girls studying on the lawn. Beatrice was standing by the dining hall building, talking to Teacher Agnes.
I imagined what it must’ve been like that day, with the chairs set up on the grass, the podium standing in front of the lake. The Teachers would line up along the shore, toes at the edge of the water, as they had every year before. Who had given the speech, telling the girls about the great promise of their future? Who had led them to the other side? I imagined Pip turning back, waiting for me, certain I would appear at the last possible moment.
When we reached the other shore the ground was still wet. Joby stepped ahead and circled around the building, gesturing me to follow. The two guards on shore pulled the rope to raise the bridge to the other side. We turned the corner and I saw the high windows, the ones I’d peered through the night I’d escaped. The bucket I’d stood on was gone.
“It must be strange to be back here again,” Joby said, her long black hair tucked under the guard’s hat. She met my eyes, as if to acknowledge the last day I’d seen her, in this same place, when Arden was being taken out of the Jeep and I was driven away by Stark.
I nodded, not wanting to risk a response. Before Joby had patted me down on the other side of the bridge, I’d slipped the key under my tongue. Now it sat there, waiting to be delivered to Arden, filling my entire mouth with a strong metallic taste.
She approached the high fenced-in section where they’d taken Arden. Joby opened the first door and led me across the short gravel driveway. We kept going, through the next door and into the grassy yard where I’d seen Ruby. Two stone tables sat outside, but there were no signs of the Graduates. “Wait here,” she said. “She’ll be out in a moment. ” Then she disappeared inside the building.
I walked the length of the yard, trying to calm my nerves. Just beyond the fence, by the closed gate, two more guards watched me, their rifles hanging at their sides. I rolled the key in my mouth. I hadn’t slept. Instead, I’d imagined Pip as I’d last seen her, spinning around the lawn, the torches casting a warm glow on her skin. I remembered her teasing me as she stood beside me at the sink or hooting wildly, arms raised in the air, after she’d won a game of horseshoes.
The door swung open and Arden walked out, Joby following close behind. Her eyes were clear as she looked me up and down, taking in my short blue dress, the gold earrings that hung from each ear. My dark hair was brushed back in a bun. “I hope you didn’t get all dolled up just to see me,” she said, her cracked lips letting on just the slightest smile. The green paper gown fell just below her knees.
I looked down at my dress, wishing I was allowed to wear more casual clothing in public. I didn’t speak, but went to her, wrapping my arms around her and kissing her on the cheek. All the while I kept my eye on Joby and the two guards who stood by the closed gate, aware that they were always watching us.
I grabbed her hand and held it up in front of me. I closed my eyes as I kissed her palm, releasing the small key into it. Then I clutched her fist to my chest. “Of course I did. ” I laughed.
Arden sat down on the bench. Her hair had grown out, her scalp no longer visible. Her pale arms were covered with tiny circular bruises from all the injections. She kept her fist on the table, palm down, the key clutched inside it. “I’m relieved to see you,” she said. “He hasn’t hurt you, has he?” Behind her, Joby shifted to get a better view of us.
I shook my head. “I’ve been worried about you, too. ” I studied the plastic wristband she wore, covered with numbers. “Are you …?” I didn’t finish the sentence.
“Not yet,” she said. “I don’t think so. ” We sat in silence for a moment. I kept nodding, the tears in my eyes, thankful that she wasn’t pregnant.
Joby checked her watch. I touched my fingers to the top of Arden’s hand. “Remember when we used to play by the apple tree in the yard?” I asked, knowing that Arden would remember no such thing. We’d hated each other when we were here together, had made a point of avoiding one another those last few years. But the first nights we’d been in the dugout I’d told her how Teacher Florence had helped me, how I’d gone through a secret door. I wondered if she remembered, or if she’d been too sick to process the details. “We used to play right there, beside the wall. I loved when they let us out on the lawn. ”
Arden smiled, a faint laugh escaping her lips. She looked down at our hands, acknowledging the key beneath them. “Yeah, I remember that,” she said.
