Chapter Twenty-Four
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The message stays with me even after I shove it beneath my mattress. The words are seared behind my eyes, crawling beneath my skin, echoing in the silence as I struggle to get through my morning classes. A threat, a warning, an answer. Written to scare, but all it’s done is stoke the fire I’d almost let go out.
There are two possibilities. Either someone was out to get rid of Solina and thinks they need to finish the job. Or someone knows who I am, why I’m here, and they want me gone. Enough to make threats, but not enough to make a move—at least not yet. Either way, it’s progress. Proof that I’m right. That whoever murdered my sister is lurking somewhere on this campus. A twisted smile plays at my lips as I head to chemistry. Their attempt at intimidating me has only made me that much more determined. If I play it smart, I can still win. Track them down and make them regret ever sending that letter in the first place. I just need more time.
And that means not bombing this test.
The exam packet is thick. Thicker than any forty-five-minute test should be. I twitch in my seat, but don’t dive in as soon as Mrs. Sutherland drops it on my desk. Time isn’t on my side, but moving too quick, too sloppily, is riskier than missing a couple of questions. I wait carefully, watching Mrs. Sutherland through the curtain of my hair. Once her back is turned, I pounce—flipping the hem of my skirt and nudging the first slip of paper out onto my lap. After some subtle shifting to give myself the best view without making it too obvious, I’m in business. Around the classroom, my peers aren’t as subtle about their attempts at cheating. Poppy tries to peek at me from the desk to my left but gives up once she sees I haven’t made much progress yet and turns to Gabe, who’s beside her, instead.
Claudia, a couple seats over from me, stares into space. Exhaustion seeps off her like perfume. The bags beneath her eyes are so dark and swollen they look more like bruises than a lack of sleep. She sways as her eyes slip closed for a moment, jolting awake when Mrs. Sutherland saunters past her. Her brown skin pales, tinged a sickly shade of green, as she finally looks down at her exam. The senior recital isn’t for another three days, but I can’t see how she won’t collapse before then. Either from exhaustion, or whatever’s making her look like she’s about to hurl on her desk. No one can run on five hours of sleep and a bowl of oatmeal for breakfast as long as she has. I should know, I’ve tried.
When I sneak another glance back at her, she looks like the slightest wind could break her. Her packet is still open to the first page. Blank except for her name in the upper left corner. My fingers twitch at my hemline, wishing I could slip some of the answers to her so she can at least get something down on the page. But I can’t save her. I can barely save myself.
This idea isn’t foolproof. I did my best to sort the answers in order of how they’ll appear on the test, but it looks like Mrs. Sutherland decided to shake it up this year and reorder the questions—but it’s not bad for someone who, as of two weeks ago, had never been in a chemistry class before. One subtle flick and the answers are stuffed back into my hem and out of view. Unless Mrs. Sutherland wants to stick her hand underneath a student’s skirt, I’m in the clear.
Multiple choice is a breeze. The short answers are tougher. I make sure not to copy them word for word, but it’s hard to fill in the gaps when I have no idea what I’m talking about. But at least I’m putting down answers at all.
I stay laser-focused on the packet, never letting my mind wander as much as it wants to. Back to that note slipped under my door, and who put it there. What they meant by it. I could linger on that thought for hours, trying to puzzle together who had the time to run back to Kincaid and out before I could notice them. Who they meant it for—me, Solina, or even Claudia. Questions that could swallow me whole.
I flip to the next page in record time, faster than anyone else in the room. The thrill of actually, maybe, pulling this off makes me swell with pride—an unfamiliar feeling. My hand starts to cramp only twenty minutes into the exam, but I push through the ache. Let my muscles get used to the strain as I keep my attention focused solely on my paper. No glances at the clock, no more peeking at how everyone else is doing. Just focus.
Which is how I miss the shadow looming over me.
“Care to explain what you’re doing, Ms. Flores?”
Mrs. Sutherland’s voice, a few inches away from my ear, almost sends me out of my seat. My heart pounds as I quickly flip my skirt back, sitting up to find her looking expectantly over my shoulder.
“Taking the test?” I reply weakly. Half the class has abandoned their own exams to turn around and watch the show that’s about to unfold.
Mrs. Sutherland’s lips pucker like she just swallowed a lemon. “So you aren’t hiding answers under your skirt?”
Fuck .
How the hell did she find out? I’d made sure the strips of paper were thin enough to not look immediately obvious, studying them from various mirror angles before I sewed them into the hem. How did she know to come up behind me, too? To ambush me from the one angle that would leave me somewhat exposed? She’s a pacer, but there’s not enough room behind the back row of desks for her to casually head back here.
Either she has superhuman vision, or someone ratted me out.
“I—I didn’t—”
“Cheating is never tolerated in my classroom,” she interrupts, snatching the exam off my desk. “I’m very disappointed in you, Ms. Flores.”
Shit shit shit. “Can I pl—”
“You’re dismissed. Thank you.” She makes her way to the front of the room, tosses my exam into the waste bin, and shoots a glare at the first row that makes everyone turn back to their work.
Despite her order, I’m frozen in place. Stuck on the edge of my seat as if she’s going to give me a second chance any minute now.
“I said you’re dismissed, Ms. Flores,” she snaps, earning several giggles throughout the room. She doesn’t do anything to silence them.
Saving us both from her having to remove me from the class herself, I pack up my stuff. Claudia’s wide awake now, gripping her desk tight enough for her knuckles to go white as she watches my every move. For once, I shift my gaze away from hers instead of meeting it. I can’t stomach the way she’s looking at me. With pity. Regret.
On the way out, Poppy gives me a strained smile that I’m guessing she wants to look sympathetic. Beside her, Gabe looks more pleased than I’ve ever seen him, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he watches me leave.
“Sorry,” Poppy mouths before turning back to her own test. Well, Gabe’s. Since peeking at your neighbor’s paper doesn’t count as cheating, apparently.
Doubt lodges itself in my throat. A flaw I hadn’t planned for. No one should’ve been able to spot the slips of paper on my lap, except for whoever was sitting directly to my left. Poppy and Gabe.
And I’m sure they’re anything but sorry.