Chapter Sixteen
SIXTEEN
I spend the next few days continuing to heal while obsessing over my mini-mysteries whenever I have time…between classes and homework and socializing, which means I don’t get nearly enough opportunity to pursue them properly. None are urgent, though, so I prioritize appropriately.
The basement scorpion seems to be the one in the staff yearbook, following a message threatening my father. There are two threatening messages, and someone also defaced his photo. Then the school replaced the photo and covered up the messages.
I also haven’t overlooked the fact that my father’s surname isn’t what he went by. He borrowed it from his supervisor, Burt Greene. A simple and common name.
Run, Nelson, run. Because if you ever show your face again?
Ask Will Nelson about Annette.
The first is a threat, but it can’t be because my dad “got” my mom pregnant, since that wouldn’t have happened yet. Also, that symbol makes me nervous. It’s as if the symbol is the threat.
The second warning is an accusation about Annette, the Lilith who’d been running for Optima that year.
There’s no last name for Annette—not in the yearbook or in Mom’s Dux journal. I can ask Allegra for the roster, which would seem a simple thing, but with Allegra, nothing is simple. Better to find this on my own.
The obvious place to look is Mom’s yearbook, but when I went to the library to check again, it was gone.
The yearbooks—like all the library’s rare books—can’t be removed from the room.
Yet someone did. Who? It could be anyone, frankly.
There’s no security system. No formal check-out system either.
Sure, there are first editions that must be worth thousands, but this is an elite private school.
No one here would steal. Or, at least, they wouldn’t steal books.
When that yearbook doesn’t turn up and internet searches on Annette and Westdale bring back nothing, I have only one clear resource. And, if I’m lucky, that same route might help me find the Janus Society.
I tap on Allegra’s door during study hours.
She opens it and says nothing.
I whisper, “I know it’s quiet time, but I’d like access to the Lilith’s archives.”
“Be more specific.”
I try for a casual shrug. “All of it? I’m trying to catch up.”
She retreats into her room, but I presume the open door means I can follow. By the time I enter, she’s already back at her drafting table, working on a new design.
“I’m not granting you carte blanche access to the archives, Liliana. You haven’t been pulling your weight in the Liliths.”
I fall into the armchair. “I haven’t missed a meeting or a photo shoot or—”
“You have provided me with nothing. Not a single secret.” Her pencil moves faster, gaze on her design. “Polly finds things on social media. Isolde is good at overhearing gossip. What have you brought?”
“Uh…”
She keeps working. “Tell me who Theo is taking to the Quartz Gala.”
“I have no idea. He’s never mentioned it.”
“Then find out. Polly wants to know.”
I shake my head. “I wouldn’t do that to a friend.”
“A friend? Or a boy? Even when it would help a female friend?”
“Cut that shit out, Allegra. By now you should know goading me about choosing guy friends over my girl friends doesn’t work.”
“How about your mother’s secret? Are you investigating that?”
“It’s why I need access to the archives. To follow up on what I’ve found so far.”
She eyes me and then says, “Which is?”
I shake my head. “This is my family history. I’m not sharing anything until I’m sure it’s connected to the secret.”
“Fine. I will get you into the archives.”
—
Ms. Dimitriou is the one who actually needs to get us inside. All society archives are kept in a lower level chamber, accessible only by both a code and a fingerprint scan. If I find this a bit much, Ms. Dimitriou seems even more amused at what she has to go through.
I think the whole secret-society thing amuses her, like we’re kids playing a game.
Which maybe we are. I think of that secret room downstairs, and how it’s creepy and strange, but also…
kinda cool? Maybe I’m inhabiting my goth look a little too much, but if Allegra decided the Liliths should hold meetings in secret rooms with candles, where we all swear blood oaths, I’d go for it.
I really need to suggest that, just to see her horrified expression.
I’m sure the extra security on the archives is just the school “humoring” us, acting as if the archives are as valuable as the members believe them to be.
If so, they don’t know much about the Liliths, because I suspect, if they read our archives, they’d burn them.
I can only imagine the dirt we have on past Optimas.
The admin can’t read our archives, though, because that key is entrusted to the Dux. It’s some kind of special key, too, which Allegra says makes the lock unpickable. I do note that the other society cases seem to have regular locks.
Interesting. Especially when the principal has to leave me alone in this room so I can access the Lilith records in private.
Once, when Dad briefly worked at a locksmith, he taught me everything he was learning, just for fun.
Lock picking might not seem the ideal pastime for a twelve-year-old, but my parents knew they didn’t need to worry about me making a career of it.
And it does mean that with a few makeshift tools, I could open those other society locks.
I wait until the door shuts behind Ms. Dimitriou. Then I check for cameras before I set my bag down in front of the door, so if anyone enters, I’ll be warned.
Each society has a bookcase-sized cabinet for their archives. They’re all marked. Lilith, Apollo, Mercury, Hephaestus. Four. No sign of a Janus, which seems odd. Even if they’re a defunct society, wouldn’t they have archives?
I set that aside and open the Lilith bookcase.
Step one: Find Annette’s surname.
I just need a roster for 2005. Seems easy enough, but there isn’t a book of members, which means that list must be in something else.
There’s a full bookcase of archives, at least half of them labeled “Housekeeping Hints and Tips.” That’s early Lilith humor. The “hints and tips” are the Lilith secrets. I know the roster won’t be in there, but I can’t resist pulling one out, opening it and—
It’s in code.
I laugh to myself. Of course it is. The Liliths weren’t just hiding all their hard-earned secrets behind a fancy lock.
There are also account books, and I’m not sure why, since we don’t do anything requiring money, but when I look inside, I see that the Liliths used to hold parties.
Apparently, being the sole female society, they were expected to host teas and brunches for visiting parents and alumni.
That ended in the sixties, when they must have rebelled with the rise of women’s rights.
Hmm. If I were a membership roster, where would I hide?
I reach one title and laugh. Burn Book? Really? Please tell me this is someone’s idea of a Mean Girls joke.
I pull it off the shelf and realize it’s been rejacketed. The outer cover is only maybe twenty years old. Inside it’s much older.
I flip to the first page and see sketches of three girls from 1896. Beside each is a name and a secret.
Alma Walker—takes both desserts and only eats a few bites of each
Edith Chamberlain—sneaks coffee from the teachers’ kitchen, sometimes adds whisky
Juliette Brandt—leaves a stench in the chamber pot and claims it was one of the boys
They’re tongue-in-cheek secrets. The Liliths poking gentle fun at each other. Juliette must be a relative of Isolde’s. I’ll need to tell her about it, give her a laugh.
Edith Chamberlain must be an ancestor of mine. I touch the sketch and think I see something in it that I recognize. A mischievous smile that reminds me of Mom.
I flip through the book. Each page is a year, with sketches giving way to photographs, black-and-white and then color. And always, that gentle secret.
A burn book indeed.
I flip to 2005. Mom is there, grinning.
Rosalyn Chamberlain—cheats at cards but still loses
I choke on a laugh. True. Mom always said it didn’t matter if she cheated, since she never won anyway.
And there’s Cecilia, her hair blown straight, making a face for the camera.
Cecilia Robbins—supplier of fine intimate feminine products
Beside that someone has drawn…what is that? A tampon? I squint. No, it’s a…
It’s a vibrator.
I shake my head. Definitely not asking her about that.
No, I might, just to see if I can finally fluster the unflappable Cecilia.
There are two other girls on the page. And then the one I’m looking for. The photograph shows a shy-looking girl with dark hair, pale skin, and freckles.
Annette Donleavy.
Her secret has been slashed out. Not coated in correction fluid but covered with black marker.
I put my phone flashlight in front of and behind the page, but it’s been thoroughly erased.
And on the back of the page, I can see the marker bled through a little and the Liliths left that spot blank, meaning it was erased before the next year added their pictures.
I take a photo of the page for Mom’s year. I have Annette’s surname. Now on to the next reason I wanted archive access: looking for any mention of Janus.
I flip through the Lilith Dux journals from the fifties and find nothing. From there, I skim backward in time, and after an hour, I’m all the way to 1913, without finding any mention of Janus. Then my phone buzzes with a message.
Theo
Got a question for you
Me
K
Theo
Behind the carriage house in 5
Me
I’m actually in the middle of something
There’s a long pause as a red dot pulses, meaning he’s typing. It stops. No message comes. It starts up again. Stops. As if he’s typing, erasing, re-typing.
Me
Is it important?
The dot pulses. Stops. Pulses again.
Theo
Nah. Later?
Those typed and erased messages tell me that he doesn’t want to wait, but the question isn’t critical enough to interrupt my study break.
I look at the Dux journals. If I haven’t found anything by now, I won’t. I message back saying I’ll be there in ten minutes, and then I text the principal, to let her know I’m done.
—
When Ms. Dimitriou retrieves me, I show her the inside of my book bag. She didn’t ask, and she seems amused that I feel the need to prove I didn’t steal anything, but I don’t want anyone claiming I did. Also, I may be establishing my honesty creds, in case I ever do swipe something from in here.
Before we leave, I say, “Can I ask a question about the societies? I found something about one called Janus.”
Her frown tells me she doesn’t recognize the name.
I continue, “Are there any defunct societies?”
“Not that I know of. You can check the school history books.” She tells me where to find those and then offers a wry smile. “They may be a bit dusty. I doubt anyone reads them.”
“Okay, thanks.”
—
When I near the carriage house, I rub my face, hoping to erase any sign of distraction. Theo’s obviously excited about something, and I don’t want him feeling as if I’m only grudgingly here.
“Hey,” I say.
He flashes his spellbinding grin, and Annette and the Janus Society tumble from my brain.
“I didn’t pull you away from anything important, did I?” he asks.
I flutter a hand. “Homework. What’s up?”
“What do you know about the Quartz Gala?”
I go still. Shit. Did he find out what Allegra asked me to do? I look up at him, but he’s clearly brimming with happy news.
“Nothing?” I say. “Except that Polly really wants to know who you’re taking.”
“She’s been pestering me, but I’ve been holding off, working up to the point where it won’t seem too weird.”
“What won’t seem too weird?”
“You wanna go?”
I blink. “Do I want…to go…?”
He props one elbow against the stone carriage house. “To a movie, Lil. I’m asking you to a movie.” He shakes his head. “The gala. Obviously.”
Before I can process that, he says, “Maddox is ready to tell you about the other thing. What we’re up to at Westdale. He’s letting me handle it, and the gala would be the perfect place for that. Guaranteed privacy, away from this place.”
“Okay…”
“Also, I really wanted to ask you, so that part just makes a good excuse.”
“Is this a society event? A Hollywood party? Either way, you probably don’t really want me there. The fanciest thing I’ve been to was a school semi-formal.”
“It’s just a fundraiser. For the Quartz Gallery in Atlanta. A day trip. I can’t guarantee Cinderella will be back by midnight, but I can guarantee our car won’t turn into a pumpkin.”
“Cecilia doesn’t want me leaving Westdale.”
“I’ve talked to her and Dimitriou. It’s up to you now.”
“When is the gala?”
“March twenty-third.”
“This weekend?” I sputter. “I need a dress and shoes and—”
“It’s Monday. We have enough time if you say yes now. I’ll lead you through all the rest. So yes?”
I nibble my lower lip.
He bends down, close enough for me to feel the heat of him. “Eventually you’re going to need to do stuff like this, Lil. Polly launched you on socials. I can launch you in society. Do you trust me to do that?”
“Of course.”
“So…”
I take a deep breath. “Okay.”
He pulls me into a hug so fast I don’t see it coming, and by the time I do, he’s released me and he’s grinning like I just agreed to let him win Optima.
“Don’t worry,” he says. “You’ll be with me. Safe as houses.”
“What does that even mean?”
“No idea,” he says, and steers me toward the house. “Now I need to get you on the guest list and tell my mom who I’m bringing so she can stop pestering me. She’s as bad as Polly.”