he was feeding to her parents, who still believed she was at Sword & Cross. So that when Luce talked to them, she could lie consistently.
No one besides Mr. Cole even had her number. And for really annoying safety reasons, Daniel hadn't given her a way to reach him. And now the phone had cost Luce her rst real progress with a shadow.
She pulled it out and opened the text Mr. Cole had just sent:
Call your parents. They think you got an A- on a history test I just gave. And that you're trying out for the swim team next week. Don't forget to act like everything's okay.
And a second one, a minute later:
Is everything okay?
Grouchily, Luce stu ed the phone in her backpack and started tramping through the thick mulch of redwood needles toward the edge of the forest, toward her dorm. The text made her wonder about the rest of the kids at Sword & Cross. Was Arriane still there, and if so, who was she sailing paper airplanes to during class? Had Molly found someone else to make her enemy now that Luce was gone? Or had both of them moved on since Luce and Daniel had left? Did Randy buy the story that Luce's parents had made her transfer? Luce sighed. She hated not telling her parents the truth, hated not being able to tell them how far away she felt, and how alone.
But a phone call? Every false word she said--A- on a made-up history test, tryouts for some bogus swim team--would only make her feel that much more homesick.
Mr. Cole must be out of his mind, telling her to call them and lie. But if she told her parents the truth--the real truth--they would think she was out of her mind. And if she didn't get in touch with them, they would know something was up. They'd drive out to Sword & Cross, nd her missing, and then what?
She could email them. Lying wouldn't be so hard by email. It would buy her a few days before she had to call. She would email them tonight.
She stepped out of the forest, onto the path, and gasped. It was night. She looked back at the lush, shaded woods. How long had she been in there with the shadow? She glanced at her watch. It was half past eight. She'd missed lunch. And her afternoon classes. And dinner. It had been so dark in the woods, she hadn't noticed time passing at all, but now it all slammed into her. She was tired, cold, and hungry.
After three wrong turns in the mazelike dorm, Luce nally found her door. Silently hoping that Shelby would be wherever it was she disappeared to at night, Luce slipped her huge, old-fashioned key into the lock and turned the knob.
The lights were o , but a re was burning in the hearth. Shelby was seated cross-legged on the oor, eyes closed, meditating. When Luce came in, one eye popped open, looking highly annoyed at the sight before it.
"Sorry," Luce whispered, sinking into the desk chair closest to the door. "Don't mind me. Pretend I'm not here."
For a little while, Shelby did just that. She closed her evil eye and went back to meditating, and the room was tranquil. Luce turned on the computer that came with her desk and stared at the screen, trying to compose in her head the most innocuous message possible to her parents --and, while she was at it, one to Callie, who'd been sending a steady stream of unread emails to Luce's in-box this past week.
Typing as slowly as she possibly could so her keyboard taps wouldn't give Shelby yet another reason to hate her, Luce wrote:
Dear Mom and Dad, I miss you guys so much. Just wanted to drop you a line. Life at Sword & Cross is good.
Her chest constricted as she strained to keep her ngers from typing: As far as I know, no one else has died this week.
Still doing ne in all my classes, she made herself write instead. Might even try out for the swim team!
Luce looked out the window at the clear, starry sky. She had to sign o fast. Otherwise, she'd lose it.
Wonder when this rainy weather will let up. ... Guess that's November in Georgia! Love, Luce
She copied the message into a new email to Callie, changed a few choice words, moved her mouse over the Send button, closed her eyes, double- clicked, and hung her head.