That night, our suite was unusually quiet. It was the first night back, after all. We didn’t have any tests or homework. There should have been movie marathons and makeovers. Liz should have been clamoring for extra credit; but even she was silent as we sat on our beds, none of us talking.
“What is it, Lizzie?” Bex tried to tease. “Have you reached your lifetime limit for bonus points?”
Usually a remark like that would make Liz go white and ask whether or not a limit to extra credit was an actual thing. Then she’d dig out her Gallagher Academy Student Handbook just to make sure. But she didn’t do either. And that, let me tell you, was scary.
“Seriously.” Bex moved to Liz’s bed. “What is it?”
“Nothing.” Liz stood and picked up a bundle of clothes, starting for the bathroom. “It’s nothing.”
“Liar.” Bex cut her off.
On her bed, Macey shifted to study us. But she didn’t mention Preston again. She didn’t ask about Cambridge.
“It’s nothing, Bex. I’m just tired.” Again, Liz tried to go to the bathroom, but again, Bex cut her off.
“Try again.”
Right then it was like all the nostalgia had been drained from Liz. She had a brand-new encryption textbook, but she wasn’t giddy. There was a stack of Microbiology Monthlys waiting for her, but she hadn’t even picked them up. Liz wasn’t being Liz, and Bex was right not to like it.
“What is it, Liz?” I asked, flanking her from the other side. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing,” Liz said, louder. “It’s just…I keep thinking about what Knight told you—about what the Circle is doing.… I don’t know. It’s just…” She gave a slight glance toward the window. “I can’t help but worry that things are going to get worse before they get better.”
Instinctively, my gaze followed hers. I totally knew the feeling.
It wasn’t exactly surprising when I couldn’t fall asleep. I thought about Liz’s words, about my mother’s warnings. Living to see graduation didn’t seem as unlikely as it had a few months before, but Bex was right. The future was out there. And I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was more than a little bit scary.
That was why I slipped out of my bed and out of our room, into the dark and chilly halls, wandering in silence until—
“Hi, Cammie.”
The girl in the hall was tiny. Her arms and hands were so small, she looked almost like a doll; but her big brown eyes were so brilliant that I was convinced that she had to be either dream or ghost.
“Sorry if I scared you,” the girl told me. “I didn’t know anyone else was up.”
“That’s…that’s okay.”
“You don’t know me, do you?” the girl guessed. Then she shrugged and smiled a little. “That’s cool.” She honestly sounded like she meant it. “I’m Amy.” She held out her hand in a manner that would have made Madame Dabney proud.
There was nothing at all self-conscious about her. She was so poised. So beautiful. If I hadn’t known better, I might have thought that I had been transported back in time to an audience with a very tiny Cleopatra.
I studied the girl, wondering why—in that moment—she seemed so familiar. Probably I’d seen her around, encoded her face. Maybe I’d even met her last semester during one of the trances that had taken me out of my right mind. But in any case, it felt like I knew her when she asked, “Are you okay, Cammie?”
She tilted her head and looked up at me with those big, brown eyes. I wasn’t surprised that she knew my name and my face. She’d probably heard more than a few stories about all that had happened in the past few years. And right then she was looking up to me. Literally. Figuratively. She was looking at me like I was exactly who she was hoping to grow up to be.
But right then all I wanted to do was go back in time and be her.
“I’m sorry,” I told her. “I didn’t recognize you.”
“I’m a seventh grader.” She shook her head slowly. “You’re a senior. You’re not supposed to recognize me. Besides, I thought I was coming to a school where not being recognizable was an advantage.”
She laughed a little, completely at home and at ease, and even though I didn’t know that seventh grader, I liked her.
“So tell me, Amy, what are you doing wandering around out here when everybody else is sleeping?”
“I like the mansion at night. It doesn’t really feel like a school then. When I’m alone and barefoot on the carpets, it feels just like a home. Like my home.”
I smiled and nodded and knew exactly what she meant.