Chapter Seventy-Eight Holly
Chapter Seventy-eight
HOLLY
In the luxurious little room, Adrianna turns to Ophelia uncertainly. She looks afraid, like she’s been overheard saying something she shouldn’t.
‘Why are you asking Adrianna about school?’ demands Ophelia, glaring at me.
I open my mouth and shut it again.
‘We’re all so tired of outsiders who have never even been to the school, judging us,’ she continues. ‘It might have been hard, but that school taught us to be tough. To deal with any kind of situation. You won’t find a single old girl who didn’t love her time there by the end.’
‘Apart from Silky,’ I point out. Beside me, Adrianna almost winces.
‘Silky was a traitor,’ says Ophelia. ‘Bringing all those private things to court. People talk, as if something might have come of her court case, if Adrianna hadn’t been kidnapped.
But it’s … just not true. Even if Silky had gone in to testify, there was no crime to convict. Her evidence was messy.’
‘You seem to know a lot about the case,’ I observe.
‘We all followed that case,’ says Ophelia. ‘Every second of it. Silky was putting our childhood in the dock. But you don’t need to be a legal expert to know it isn’t a crime to tell ghost stories to young children, or feed them gross food!’
The tirade is such a bizarre contrast to Ophelia’s rainbow jumpsuit and primary color eye make-up, it’s almost surreal. She seems to realize this, collecting herself. But then her attention settles on the very obviously drunk Adrianna.
‘What did you do to her?’ accuses Ophelia. ‘You know she can’t drink on the night before her wedding.’ Without waiting for an answer, Ophelia steps forward, beaded sandals jingling, and inserts herself physically between Adrianna’s thin body and mine.
‘Don’t worry,’ says Ophelia. ‘I’m always here to take care of you, Dri. Always.’
It’s weird, the way Ophelia is staring at Adrianna, as if she’s trying to channel some deep message. ‘I’m here for you,’ she repeats, reaching out a small hand, and tentatively stroking Adrianna’s hair.
I’m caught between a strange mix of emotions. It’s perfectly natural for Ophelia to look out for Adrianna. So why is something about the way she winds her small arms around Adrianna’s body … creepy?
‘I’ll get you to bed,’ Ophelia tells Adrianna, glancing at me. ‘You don’t need to be here, Holly.’
This should be the perfect situation. The door from this room is unguarded. Everyone in the adjoining bar assumes I’m still with Adrianna.
I can slip away without anyone seeing, and investigate Sepulcrum. But glancing back at Ophelia’s hungry expression, I have the strangest sensation, that I’m leaving Adrianna in the care of a predator.
I teeter, before making a decision. There’s no evidence Ophelia is anything other than Adrianna’s friend. The best way to help Adrianna is to find those documents and try to find out who held her captive all those years ago. I need to get to Sepulcrum.
As I head out of Opium, my mind twists to the person who held Adrianna captive. Their obsession with the number three. With power. With dolls and dresses.
It all started years ago. At her boarding school.