"Ahem," Arriane said, looking at Shelby and Miles. "And when Luce's parents ask, you guys go here too."
"Explain to me how this is a school," Shelby said. "What, do you swim and pray at the same time? That's a level of freakish e ciency you'd never see on the West Coast. I think I just got homesick."
"You think this is bad," Luce said, "you should see the rest of campus."
Shelby scrunched up her face, and Luce couldn't blame her. Compared to Shoreline, this place was a gruesome sort of Purgatory. At least, unlike the rest of the kids here, they'd be gone after tonight.
"You guys look drained," Arriane said. "Which is good, because I promised Cole we'd lie low."
Roland had been leaning against the ping board, rubbing his temples, the Announcer shards quivering at his feet. Now he stood up and began to take charge. "Miles, you're going to bunk up with me in my old room. And Luce, your room's still empty. We'll roll in a cot for Shelby. Let's all drop our bags and meet back at my room. I'll use the old black-market network to order a pizza."
The mention of pizza was enough to shake Miles and Shelby out of their comas, but Luce was taking longer to adjust. It wasn't that weird for her room to still be empty. Counting on her ngers, she realized she'd been gone from this place less than three weeks. It felt like so much longer, like every day had been a month, and it was impossible for Luce to imagine Sword & Cross without any of the people--or angels, or demons--who had made up her life here.
"Don't worry." Arriane stood next to Luce. "This place is like a reject revolving door. People come and go all the time because of some parole issue, crazy parents, whatever. Randy's o tonight. No one else gives a damn. If anyone gives you a second look--just give 'em a third one. Or send them over to me." She made a st. "You ready to get out of here?" She pointed at the others already following Roland out the door.
"I'll catch up with you guys," Luce said. "There's something I need to do rst."
In the far east corner of the cemetery, next to her father's plot, Penn's grave was modest but neat.
The last time Luce had seen this cemetery, it had been coated in a thick felt of dust. The aftermath of every angel battle, Daniel had told her. Luce didn't know whether the wind had carried the dust away by now, or whether angel dust just disappeared over time, but the cemetery seemed to be back to its neglected old self. Still ringed by an ever-advancing forest of kudzu-strangled live oaks. Still barren and depleted under the no- color sky. Only, there was something missing, something vital Luce couldn't put her nger on, but that still made her feel lonely.
A sparse layer of dull green grass had grown up and around Penn's grave, so it didn't look so jarringly new, compared to the centuries-old graves surrounding it. A bouquet of fresh lilies lay in front of the simple gray tombstone, which Luce stooped down to read:
PENNYWEATHER VAN SYCKLE-LOCKWOOD
A DEAR FRIEND
1991-2009
Luce inhaled a jagged breath, and tears sprang to her eyes. She'd left Sword & Cross before there'd been time to bury Penn, but Daniel had taken care of everything. It was the rst time in several days that her heart ached for him. Because he had known, better than she would have known herself, exactly how Penn's tombstone should read. Luce knelt down on the grass, her tears owing freely now, her hands combing the grass uselessly.
"I'm here, Penn," she whispered. "I'm sorry I had to leave you. I'm sorry you got mixed up with me in the rst place. You deserved better than this. A better friend than me." this. A better friend than me."
She wished her friend were still here. She wished she could talk to her. She knew Penn's death was her fault, and it almost broke her heart.
"I don't know what I'm doing anymore, and I'm scared."
She wanted to say she missed Penn all the time, but what she really missed was the idea of a friend she could have known better if death hadn't taken her away too soon. None of it was right.
"Hello, Luce."
She had to wipe away the tears before she could see Mr. Cole standing on the other