CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE #2
Lafferty shook his head, scowling. “He’s not dead. Don’t be hysterical.” He gestured to one of his henchmen. “Here, help me lift him. We’ll get him to the infirmary and he’ll be right as rain.”
The floor beneath her began to vibrate. All around, kids were screaming and crying and fighting their so-called guardians, but these sounds were eclipsed by the pounding of booted feet marching in unison.
Resistance faded abruptly as the dreaded campus security entered the cafeteria.
Anger turned to fear, to compliance. No one wanted a club to the head.
Molly dragged herself to her feet as the gray-clad guards took control of the situation.
A couple of them came for Cole, helping Lafferty’s staff carry his limp body between the four of them.
A stunned silence fell over the students, but for a few muffled sobs and gasps, as they watched their fellow classmate hoisted along like a sack of meal.
“You killed him,” Molly said, louder this time. Horror gripped her. Had she caused this, with an innocent note?
“You killed him!”
She screamed it over and over, lost in the horror of it.
“You killed him! You killed him!”
She couldn’t stop, couldn’t think; she could only shriek… until something hard and heavy cracked against the back of her skull and the world went black.
“This one is an unrepentant troublemaker.”
“You were right to send her here. She’s unredeemable. Doesn’t listen, doesn’t conform, doesn’t bend.”
“What do we do with her?”
A small scoff. “What we do with everyone like her at Bright Renewal.”
“But this one is complicated. She isn’t cursed. Her father is a PK sergeant, too. And her aunt – well, we all know what she is.”
“All the more reason to keep her in solitary until the Ascension. Keep her out of sight in case anyone important comes calling.”
“Out of sight and out of mind.” A thoughtful pause. “Her family will expect a letter soon.”
“Easy enough to fake.”
“Right. I’ll get started on it.”
“Send in Miss Reilly on your way out, will you? I need her.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Then quiet. Molly lay lost in a drowning darkness.
The disembodied voices had pulled her close to the surface, but she couldn’t open her eyes.
She wasn’t asleep, exactly. Her head floated, feeling disconnected from her body, but she was aware of her surroundings: the smell of antiseptic, the soft murmur of swishing cloth and padding footsteps, the clink of vials against metal trays. The infirmary! Had she been injured?
“You killed him! You killed him!”
She found light and struggled toward it. Her eyelids dragged open and she winced. An overhead lamp was aimed right at her face. “Cole,” she said, the name scraping past her lips. Was he really dead? Had she gotten him killed?
“Molly,” someone said brightly, sounding relieved and glad. “You’re awake. Thank the Goddess!”
She knew the voice. “Rebecca?”
Someone took her hand, squeezing tightly. “It’s me. Stay still.” A hand on her shoulder. “Mrs H! She’s awake!”
“Ah, it’s a miracle!”
Molly stiffened. She recognized that voice, too.
It belonged to one of the specters contemplating her fate moments ago when she’d been struggling to regain sense.
There was a clicking of heels against a tile floor and someone hove into view.
Molly’s eyes slid toward the newcomer, her heart racing.
A woman in a head scarf, gray frock and apron leaned over her, smiling kindly.
Her black braids gleamed in the harsh light, tied with red velvet ribbons.
Molly knew her: Mrs Hollander, the sweet, caring, compassionate school nurse of Clementine Prep.
She wants to put me in chains.
“How are you feeling, Miss Franke?” Mrs H asked, a delicate line appearing between her brows. So concerned. So sympathetic. “You took quite a blow to the head.”
Took…? “Someone bludgeoned me,” she croaked.
The kindly expression cracked. A gleam entered her cornflower eyes and her perfect lips pinched unpleasantly. She blinked and the mask returned. Molly wondered if she’d imagined the dark look, the pure disdain.
“It was so crazy in the cafeteria,” Rebecca said, speaking quickly. Her hand was tight around Molly’s. “A lot of kids got hurt. By accident.”
“Yes, a terribly unfortunate event,” Mrs H agreed.
She sighed, bustled away and returned with a tray, then settled it on the table beside her bed and smiled down at Molly.
This time, she wasn’t fooled. Mrs H’s expression was empty.
“Be glad you got a private room, Miss Franke. The infirmary is full to capacity!” She shot Rebecca a grateful smile.
“Luckily I have Miss Reilly to help me. Such a good girl. You know, you could learn a thing or two from her.”
Rebecca beamed at the compliment, giving Molly’s hand a hearty squeeze at the same time.
An insane giggle threatened to bubble up from Molly’s gut.
It was a joke. Rebecca managed to break every rule possible, yet somehow she had them all fooled.
She gave Molly a look while Mrs H busied herself with the tray, waggling her brows and sticking out her tongue.
Silent laughter shook Molly. She was grateful for her friend and reflected that she did need to learn to be more like her. It might make things here easier.
She sobered abruptly. What was she thinking? She wasn’t going to get the chance. Mrs H had other plans for her.
Solitary. Crypts. Chains.
“Cole Graham was always a troublemaker,” Mrs H said. She had a syringe in her hand and was flicking it to free an air bubble.
Molly shrank into the stiff sheets of her hospital bed. “Is Cole…?” She couldn’t say the word.
“He’s fine,” Mrs H. said flatly. Her eyes cut down at her, cruel and hard, any pretense of kindness gone. “Worry about yourself, young lady.”
The woman took her by the arm, the needle poised above her pale skin. Horrified, Molly struggled – or tried to. A lightning flash erupted in her head and she slumped.
“Calm down, Molly,” Rebecca urged. “It’s for the pain.”
“No,” she protested weakly. Her thrashing did nothing but ruffle her blanket.
Mrs H had her arm firmly in her grip. The needle pricked her skin and slid deep.
With a sneer just for her, Mrs H pressed the plunger.
A rush of warmth followed, filling her veins.
The pounding in her head faded and the room grew dim.
“I’ll be here when you wake up,” Rebecca said. “I promise.”
Molly felt a flutter against the back of her hand. The gentle touch of her friend’s lips. She wanted to scream, but she was frozen. Rebecca wouldn’t be able to keep her promise. Molly knew it. And then she knew nothing.