looked out.
Alex asked, “What is it?”
“It’s Bill,” Paul said.
Alex stepped past him into the hall, looking down the dim, cobwebby corridor. In the main foyer he saw Bill Merrill, waving a cell phone. “I did try! I did try!”
Otranto said something in a hushed tone, using his hands slowly, palms down, as if to calm the boy. “And we are trying as well.”
“I want answers; this is ridiculous,” Bill said. Abruptly he looked down the hall, catching sight of Alex. He turned instantly and began advancing toward Alex and Paul. “Have you called home?” he shouted at Paul.
Paul seemed confused by the question. “What? Yeah, several times.”
“With your cell phone?”
Paul said slowly, “Yeah, you need to borrow it?”
Bill waved his hand. “Agh. England. You! Did you call home?”
“With his phone, but there wasn’t a problem,” Alex said.
Bill turned back to Otranto, shouting. “You get through. I’m not gonna stand for this.”
“What’s going on?” Alex asked.
“Stay out of this,” Bill said, shooting him a snarling look.
Otranto was leading Bill outside. Alex had a sick, sympathetic feeling in his gut. Bill might be a jerk, but he was just like the rest of them in that he was a student and in theory he had parents somewhere. Every student’s parents were putting pressure on their sons, trying to decide whether to stay or to go. But if Alex was understanding Bill correctly, he hadn’t been able to contact his parents at all. With Steven in the hospital, that sounded like a nightmare.
Alex and Paul reentered the study as a clock in a high tower over the school began to chime, a quarter to eight. Minhi began to gather up the cups.
Alex asked, “What do you want to do now?”
Minhi shrugged. “Uh . . . well, it’s nearly eight. Vienna, are you up for rehearsal?”
“Rehearsal for what?” Alex was puzzled.
Minhi looked at Paul. “You still on?”
“Rehearsal for what?” Alex and Sid said together. Suddenly there was something only half of them were aware of?
Paul looked down, rubbing the back of his neck. “Did I not—it’s . . . it’s a little stupid.”
“It’s not stupid.” Minhi frowned.
“It’s a BALL,” Paul said, looking to Alex for sympathy.
“You’re going to a ball?” Alex smiled. “Like a . . . pumpkins-and-carriages-and-tuxedos ball?”
Minhi laughed. “A rehearsal, Alex, I mean, seriously, do you think there’d be a ball tonight and you’d somehow miss that fact? It’s on Friday.”
Alex allowed that that had to be true; he could pretty well ignore most of the goings-on at this new, weirdly merged school, but yeah, if there were a big dance tonight there would at least be . . . streamers. Or something.
Vienna brightened. “This Friday there will be a benefit ball for LaLaurie. It includes a debut of the daughters of governmental ministers here for the InfoTreaty.”
“InfoTreaty?”
Sid looked up. “Oh, yeah. That’s an international treaty to modernize biographical information and make it easier to share.”
Alex said, “How does that translate into a . . . dance?”
Minhi nodded. “There’s an international conference on the treaty in Geneva this month, attended by government officials from around the world. The Ball is a black-tie event timed to coincide with that. Of course the talk now is that it’ll also be used to raise money for the reconstruction of Glenarvon in addition to the LaLaurie endowment, since the schools were founded by the same board.”
Alex was trying to put this together. “A debut of daughters—Minhi, do you have a parent who’s like a government minister?”
“Deputy minister,” Minhi responded.
“Your dad?”
“My mom.”
“And my father,” Vienna piped up.
“Okay, I get it,” Alex said. Really this wasn’t so shocking; Glenarvon and LaLaurie were a couple of the most prestigious boarding schools in the world. “So this is a big deal. Is there a ballroom at LaLaurie?”
“We do have a ballroom,” Vienna said, “so the rehearsals are here. But the actual event . . .”
“It’s going to be on a boat,” Minhi finished excitedly.
“A boat?”
“A big one. On the lake.” She seemed to bounce.
Alex still didn’t get something. “Why do you have to rehearse?”
“Well,” Vienna explained, “you don’t just show up and know how to walk down a flight of stairs and dance.”
“You don’t know how to walk down a flight of stairs?” Alex and Sid folded their arms and looked at their roommate, and Alex said accusingly to him, “How do you figure into this?”
“Immunscorrrr,” Paul muttered.
“What was that, I couldn’t . . .” Alex shook his head, laughing. Minhi raised an eyebrow.
“I’m an escort,” Paul said finally. “Every