Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
IRIS
I went straight back to my dorm room after I’d stashed the clippings away where I’d found them – though I’d kept the messy parchment with the phrases I didn’t understand, adamant that I’d find a way to translate them.
To understand what the fuck was going on.
I sat on my bed alone – wishing desperately that Adora was here and not at Rory’s – trying to get my breathing under control.
People at Ashcroft – students like me – were vanishing on the same date every year, dating back to at least 1851. How many people was that? How many suffering families?
The realisation that it was going to happen again, and soon, was making me nauseous. I needed to tell someone… The police? No, they already knew and, clearly, hadn’t done anything to stop it. Could they not figure it out? Or did they not care?
I could talk to Adora, but I didn’t want to panic her.
I switched from pacing to sitting to pacing for so long that I didn’t notice the sun gradually rising over the cliff, bathing the room in golden hues. The birds began their melodic chirping. My eyes were so heavy, my brain so full – I sat down on my bed and, before I knew it, sleep overcame me.
The clock chimed loudly, jolting me awake. I sat bolt upright in bed, not realising I’d fallen asleep. It took me a second to get my bearings – I ran my hand over my face, rubbing my eyes. I looked out of the window and saw just how high the sun had risen in the sky.
‘Shit,’ I yelped, jumping up.
A few seconds later, Adora came barging through the door and I yelped again.
‘Iris! Are you okay?’ she said, her voice at least two octaves too high. ‘Where have you been?’
I looked around, still feeling disoriented. ‘I’ve been here… I—’ I caught sight of myself in the mirror – dishevelled and wearing yesterday’s clothes. ‘I overslept, I guess.’
‘You… overslept?’ she peered at me undiscerningly. ‘Iris, you never oversleep.’ I was silent for a moment, and her gaze softened. She walked over to where I stood and put her arm on mine. ‘Is everything okay with you?’ she asked gently.
‘Yes… I—I’m fine,’ I lied. Should I tell her what I know? She’s so kind-hearted and I didn’t want to burden her.
‘You’re sure?’
‘Yes.’
‘Okay…’ she said, but it was clear she didn’t believe me.
‘What time is it, anyway?’ I asked.
Her eyebrows creased in concern. ‘It’s midday.’
‘Midday?’ I shouted. ‘What—’
‘You missed the first two periods, Iris. It was only when Rory found me at lunch and said you missed Moral Philosophy that I came looking for you!’
Shit.
‘Shit. I missed Moral Philosophy?’
‘Yes! God, Iris, are you sure you’re okay? What’s wrong?’
‘I—’ I cut myself off.
‘Iris, please,’ she sat down on the end of my bed and pulled me down to sit next to her.
Her voice was soft, calm, when she said, ‘You know you can talk to me, right? I know I don’t sleep in the dorm that often, but I can start, if you need me.
Rory won’t mind… I’m here if you ever need to talk, okay? About anything.’
God, I must look terrible. ‘I know. I know, thank you,’ I said, nodding and forcing a small smile. ‘I appreciate it. I’m honestly okay, though.’
She snorted, disbelief clear in her expression. ‘Yeah, sure you are.’
Could I tell her what I know? I needed to tell someone – I didn’t feel like I could shoulder this burden alone.
Something needed to be done to stop whatever the hell was going on…
But did I really want this weighing on her conscience?
I began feeling incredibly hot. The room felt stuffy and suffocating.
Beads of sweat began building on my temples and I squished my eyes closed.
‘Iris?’ Adora said, concern lacing her words.
‘Can we go somewhere and talk?’ I managed to say.
Adora’s head tilted to the side, but then she nodded, albeit hesitantly. I stood, my limbs feeling like jelly, and threw on a jacket and scarf.
‘Let’s go,’ I said, and pulled her out of the dorm.
‘Fuck.’ I’d never heard Adora swear before.
‘Fuck, fuck, fuck.’ She was pacing up and down the grassy bank that we’d walked to.
We weren’t too far from the main grounds, but far enough away that I felt like I could breathe again.
I felt so claustrophobic in the dorm that I’d desperately needed to get outside.
There were a few students dotted about, since it was still the lunch hour, but they were all out of earshot.
I sat with my knees pulled up to my chest, my arms looped tightly around my legs, chin tucked into the soft wool of my scarf.
The air was cool and the wind was just a gentle breeze, whipping a few strands of my hair across my face.
I breathed in deeply, letting it calm me slightly.
‘Fuck,’ Adora muttered again, turning on her heel to pace in the opposite direction. She was beginning to flatten the grass in one long, neat line.
‘Adora?’ I said quietly, patting the ground beside me. ‘Come and sit down?’
She didn’t. Instead, she dragged her hands through her hair and let out a strained laugh that held no real humour.
‘How are you so calm?’ she said. She wrapped her cardigan tighter around herself, like she was trying to hold herself together, and bounced on the balls of her feet. ‘How are you not hyperventilating!’
‘I’m not calm,’ I said, willing my voice to be steady for her sake.
‘I’ve just had more time to process it, I think.
’ I tugged on my ponytail anxiously. Trust me, when I first found out…
I thought I was going to throw up. I couldn’t think straight.
’ I shook my head. ‘Please, come sit.’ I patted the damp grass next to me again.
As soon as I’d finished telling her everything – from first finding the information on Isobella to stumbling upon the entire stack of hundreds of missing kids – she’d begun pacing, and she hadn’t stopped.
Sighing heavily, she dropped her shoulders in defeat and walked back up the bank. She sat down next to me and rested her head on my shoulder. ‘Sorry you had to find this out alone.’
‘No, I’m sorry,’ I murmured, my voice only just above a whisper. ‘I shouldn’t have dumped all of this on you.’
Her head shot up. ‘Are you serious?’ she said, her eyes wide. ‘Don’t apologise. Don’t you dare apologise for this.’ She leaned forwards, her hands braced against her knees. ‘If anything, you should’ve told me even sooner. People need to know about this. We need to go to the police.’
‘No.’ I shook my head immediately, the word coming out firmer than I intended.
She frowned. ‘What do you mean? Why not?’
‘The police already know, remember?’
‘But… if they know, then why hasn’t anything—’
‘Exactly,’ I said. ‘Nothing has been done about it for decades.’ Her expression shifted.
She looked even more worried now. ‘They know, Dora,’ I repeated, more gently this time.
‘It looks like it gets reported every year. Same pattern, same date… and every time it just fades away. Why?’ I gave a small, helpless shrug.
‘So either they don’t want to help… or,’ I hesitated, the thought catching in my throat, ‘for some reason we don’t understand yet… they can’t help.’
‘That doesn’t make any sense,’ she breathed, shaking her head. ‘How can they just… let that happen?’
I shrugged. ‘Maybe there’s more to it that we don’t understand,’ I said.
‘Or maybe they simply can’t figure it out.
’ I looked out across the lawn, towards the stone walls of the university, and then the cliff and sheer drop beyond.
‘How does something like this happen every year,’ I said quietly, almost to myself, ‘and no one talks about it?’
The wind picked up slightly, brushing against my face, and suddenly a thought hit me. ‘Wait… Adora, you said you started here when you were nineteen, right? As in, you weren’t a transfer like me?’
‘…Yes?’ she said, eyeing me cautiously.
‘Well? Have you known anyone who disappeared? What about the girl last year?’
‘Oh!’ she said quickly, as if she was happy to help in some way. ‘Maybe? What was her name again?’
‘Isobella Way,’ I said. ‘Wait, hold on.’ I rummaged in the pocket of the green tweed jacket I’d thrown on before we came out and fished out the only article that I hadn’t stashed back in the bookshelf. Unfolding it, I passed it to Adora. ‘Here, this is her,’ I said. ‘Do you know her?’
Adora took the article from me and inspected it. She crinkled her eyebrows and stared at it for a while, lips pursed, until she finally declared that she didn’t know her. The small kindling of hope that was building in my chest snuffed out like a match.
‘Actually,’ Adora said, sitting up straight, eyes gliding over the article attached to the image of Isobella, ‘it says here she was a scholarship philosophy student!’
‘Uh, yeah, I guess she was,’ I said, nodding.
Adora just stared at me. ‘Soooo…?’
I creased my brow.
Huffing dramatically and waving the article at me in a flourish, she said, ‘So who else do we know that was a Moral Philosophy student last year?’
‘Oh! Rory. Of course, sorry.’ She tutted and rolled her eyes sarcastically.
‘But, Adora, I really don’t think we should involve anyone else right now.
’ She opened her mouth to speak, but I hurried on.
‘It’s just that this is potentially so dangerous – we don’t really have any idea what’s going on…
Involving anyone else at this point is a bad idea. ’
Again, Adora sighed dramatically, but after a moment she nodded.
‘Yeah, I suppose you’re right.’ She knotted her fingers together, and we watched the grass on the bank swaying in the breeze.
A light rain was beginning to fall – small droplets landing on our shoes and our hair. We both looked up towards the heavens.
‘It’s horrible,’ Adora whispered, and I knew she wasn’t talking about the rain.
‘I know,’ I said gently.
‘I’m really glad you told me, though,’ she said, resting her head on my shoulder again.
It made me think of the last time I’d had someone to confide in, and after a while I realised I’d never really had anyone like her.
The thought made me incredibly sad, but also so, so grateful.
Grateful that I was still here, and given the opportunity to find her.
To find happiness.
I guess I hadn’t quite found it in full yet, but I felt like – for the first time ever – I was on my way there. Towards true happiness.
Telling Adora what I’d discovered was a huge weight off my shoulders, despite the fear and inner turmoil of speaking it aloud to anyone, let alone a friend.
The fear and guilt of putting that pressure on them.
Adora didn’t seem to mind, though. If anything, there was something almost…
relieved about her now. Like, despite everything I’d just dropped on her, she was glad I’d trusted her with it – even if she hated what she’d heard.
It made me think: could I truly open up about things I hadn’t even accepted about myself until recently?
The rain gradually grew heavier, but neither of us moved. We let the droplets fall on us, coating the grounds of the university in a beautiful, shimmering silver.
Suddenly I found myself thinking of Robin… the way everything changed between us after that one moment.
But if you couldn’t tell your best friend everything, then what were friends for?
…right?
I turned my head towards her. She was looking down at the wet grass. My stomach twisted.
‘Adora?’ I said, my voice barely more than breath.
Her eyes met mine. ‘Yeah?’ She put her arm around me and smiled a small, slightly sad smile.
‘I…’ The word stuck. My throat tightened, like it physically refused to let anything else through. Adora wasn’t Robin, I told myself… Adora wasn’t Robin. ‘Shit.’ I dragged a hand over my face, pushing wet hair back behind my ears.
‘Iris… are you okay?’ she asked, her voice sharpening with concern.
Am I really doing this?
‘Yeah… I—’ God, my palms were so sweaty.
‘Iris.’ She turned towards me fully and put her hand lightly on my wrist. ‘You’re my best friend, okay?
And I fucking love you. If there’s something going on…
’ She paused to sigh and roll her eyes. ‘…more than there already is… you don’t have to carry that by yourself. ’ She paused. ‘I won’t allow it.’
My chest tightened. I clenched my fists, squeezing my eyes shut as the rain ran over my face. I took a deep breath.
‘Iris, come on!’
Oh, fuck it.
‘I can see ghosts.’