Chapter Twenty-Six
TWENTY-SIX
THE MESSAGE IN THE MIRROR clings to me like a shadow. It brushes against my ankles like a needy cat, begging me to pay attention to it. Run.
Runrunrunrunrunrunrun.
From what? From whom?
“So let me get this straight,” Daisy says, her words muffled by the clip she holds between her teeth as she twists her black hair and cinches it at the crown of her head.
“You’re working with Missy to find Fiona, and you need our help to break into the headmaster’s office so you can snoop through his files because you have a feeling that the school is somehow covering up the truth about what happened to her? ”
Sam’s jaw hasn’t left the floor since I recruited them for help.
“Yeah,” I laugh, leaning on my elbows and tipping my head back, letting the unseasonably bright sunshine warm my face. “That about covers it.”
“But that’s insane!” Sam finally erupts, rocketing to their knees and casting me in their shadow.
I level them with a look. “What’s insane is the fact that this girl completely disappeared last year without a trace, and every single thing of hers?
Gone. Her social media accounts? Gone. Meanwhile the administration talks a big game about security and wanting to bring her home, but the police were on campus for, what, twenty-four, forty-eight hours?
If y’all don’t think this place reeks of something sinister, then I’m not sure what to tell you. ”
I don’t know why my chest heaves up and down like I’ve just run a mile, but I look between them and take in the conflict on their faces. Well, on Sam’s face. Daisy is absolutely beaming like this is the most exciting thing she’s ever heard in her life.
“But I guess I don’t understand why it’s our place to do the investigating…,” Sam says, their voice quiet against the bustle of campus.
I check my phone for the time. We were let out of English early, but I’m going to need to start heading toward history in a minute.
There is so much I’m keeping locked away, it’s a wonder that I don’t burst wide open, that I don’t corner anyone who will listen and release it all—free myself of the weight that’s constantly sitting on my chest. Crushing me.
I can’t tell them about the witches, the dreams, the power, or the history that snakes between myself and Earnest, Malachi and Lucas, and maybe even Fiona. I can’t tell them about the static that is eating me from the inside. The whispers. The cardinals that follow me around campus.
The glowing red eyes in the woods.
The haunting wailing at night in the dorms.
The ghosts.
So instead I say, “Fiona was a brown-skinned student invited to this campus on a full scholarship, and when she went missing, they put the bare minimum into finding her. What should we do? Cut our losses? Let her go? Trust the goddamn police? A brown girl is missing, and this school might have something to do with it. Look me in my eyes and tell me we shouldn’t try to find her.
Tell me you think brown girls aren’t worth getting in trouble for. ”
Crimson blooms across Sam’s cheeks, and guilt turns my stomach. Deep down I know Sam is right to be nervous. They’re also brown, and they’re trans; it’s not like justice doesn’t come at a cost. That’s the reasonable reaction here. I’m probably the one being unreasonable.
But I’ll be that.
Because yeah, maybe I’ve never met Fiona, and maybe I have no idea what happened to her. But I do know that she doesn’t look that different from me.
What if something happens to me? What if the dread I’ve been feeling since I got to campus isn’t all in my head? The message swiped into the foggy mirror makes it pretty clear it’s not.
If the worst happens, will they look for me? Or will they erase me like they tried to do to Fiona? Will I be another cautionary tale? Fodder for ghost stories one hundred years from now?
“No, uh, you’re right, I’m sorry, you’re right.”
They rub their hands against their pants over and over, and I reach out to stop them. “Hey, it’s okay. I know you didn’t mean anything by it.”
“You are right, though,” Daisy finally chimes in, her deep brown eyes trained on me. “No one gives a shit, and we can’t keep letting that slide. If you’re going to break into the office looking for answers, then I fully support and plan to enable you.”
A grin stretches across my face.
“Okay, yeah… you know, I do care, I really do. I just don’t want to get in trouble.
” Sam’s expression is sheepish, and I smother the resentment that constricts my throat.
Not everyone is going to have the same conviction about things as me.
Not everyone is willing to brave the fire of justice, but after years and years of resistance within the walls of my own home, I have trained myself to withstand the heat.
“Someone has to be willing to get in trouble for doing the right thing,” I say, folding my arms across my belly, the wind carrying my curls and flinging them into my face. “If we get caught, I’ll take the blame.
“I’ll let them burn me at the stake.”
I leave Sam and Daisy and immediately put them into a group chat with Missy.
OCEAN’S FOUR
Harper: don’t be mad, but I recruited some people for the heist
Sam: someone please explain why we’re leaving behind a trail of evidence with this gc
Daisy: oooohhhhh heist core
Daisy: i have the perfect aesthetic board for this
Missy:
I’ve just finished shoving my phone into the side pocket of my bag when a warm hand slides into my own.
The gentle heat seems to spread up my arm and into my chest until my shoulders relax and the anxious, obsessive thoughts inside my head subside.
I’m enjoying the temporary silence of my mind when Lucas says, “You haven’t been answering my texts.”
I meet his crystal-blue eyes. “I know, I’m sorry. I’ve been busy with my history project and stuff.” But maybe it’s more than that, too.
I spent so much time with all these weird, complicated feelings for Malachi.
Every summer the way he and I intertwined only grew more knotted until there was no undoing what felt like our destiny.
But last year, even before the almost kiss with Lucas, before the accident and the fight and the end of everything, we had already started to change in ways I never expected.
If moving to Earnest and coming to BMA has taught me anything, it’s that those warm, blooming feelings between Lucas and me last summer weren’t a fluke. They were real.
And that scares me.
He smiles as we climb the bricked steps at the entrance of Rosewood before opening the door for me. “That’s okay, I get it. Are you excited about homecoming?”
Shit. I forgot that’s next weekend.
We weave through the hallway.
“Uh, yeah. I guess.”
“You guess? It’s one of the best nights of the year. I know you’re not into school functions and stuff, but I really want you there.” I turn my face away to hide the blush spreading across my cheeks as his fingers run over the ridges of my knuckles.
“Alright,” I laugh as we stop outside the classroom. Lucas leans against the wall, his hands finding my waist and pulling me closer to him. “I’ll be there.”
“Can’t wait,” he grins, but it quickly vanishes, his eyes catching on something down the hall. I turn, looking for what’s bothering him, but all I see is the tail end of a suit jacket slipping around the corner.
“Hey, are you okay?”
He chuckles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, of course! You know me, I’m always okay.”
On top of everything else, I haven’t forgotten the uncomfortable conversation with his dad, the ludicrous comparison between Lucas and Malachi. Had it always been like that and I just didn’t notice? Or is this new, a byproduct of Alastair now having to parent two kids instead of one?
Even though it should be three.
Lexie should be here, too.
“Um, you know, I’ve been thinking about what your dad said before, and if you want to, we can study together sometime. You know I’m in the café most afternoons, so if you want to join me, or…,” I trail off, and want to kick myself. Why am I so fucking awkward all the time?
He barks out a laugh. “Please, no, it’s fine, I swear. I’m used to it. Kai is the perfect Matsoukas, and I’ll always be second best to some people. I’m starting to accept that maybe there’s nothing I can do about it. But like I said, no more living in his shadow.”
I nod, even though my heart squeezes for him. His emotions are written all over his face. Embarrassment and frustration.
“My dad, it’s like he wants me to be something I’m not. Someone I’m not—that I’ll never be.”
There are layers to what he’s saying.
“Oh,” I sigh, finally understanding. This school, this history, it belongs to Lucas in name alone. Growing up, it just wasn’t something we thought about. Lucas was Lucas. It didn’t make a difference that he didn’t look like Malachi or Alastair.
The first time Lucas’s mom got cancer, the treatments took away her ability to conceive.
So when she went into remission and married Alastair, they decided to adopt.
Lucas never talked about it, but it wasn’t a secret.
And it never seemed to matter anyway. But now that Malachi’s parents are gone, and Alastair has custody of both boys…
“I like that you’re different,” I offer softly.
“Thanks,” he says, some of the tension finally leaving his face as he shrugs.
“It is what it is. I’m just grateful to have a family.
But I guess sometimes I wonder where I come from, who I would be if I’d stayed with my bio parents.
If I would be somewhere I wasn’t always going to be the wrong fit, like I am now. ”
That last part stings with familiarity.
“Don’t say that. You know that’s not true. Have you thought about looking for them? Your bio parents?”
“Nah, not really. Dad says there’s no point. He said someone dropped me off at a fire station. There’s no trail to follow.”
All those summers it was me and him and Malachi. A unit equally split. But here, now, I realize that he’s a drop of blood in the snow, too. And I’ve been stupid to ignore that.
“I didn’t know… You never mentioned feeling this way.”