Cruel Shame (Knights of Templar Academy #3) - Sofia Daniel Page 0,72
thank the people who brought tonight’s showing to our attention.” She nodded in the direction of our table. Behind her, the screen flared to life, revealing the opening credits to a show I’d never watched. “Without further preamble, here is Glasgow Tonight.”
The presenter was the same blonde woman who had interviewed Elizabeth on Saturday, outside the academy steps. I glanced at Elizabeth, who leaned forward in her seat. Behind the woman were the sort of tall fences and electric gates I recognized from the juvenile detention center outside Richley. I bit through the chocolate and into a mouthful of vanilla ice cream.
Next, a shaky camera pointed to a door, which opened to let in a bunch of girls wearing the familiar, bottle-green tracksuits. Someone in post-production pixelated all of their faces except for the one at the very end—a hunched figure with bushy, tawny, hair.
Before she even raised her head, everyone around the dining tables erupted into cheers and whoops.
I sucked in a breath, my pulse fluttering in my throat like a trapped moth. A band of anxiety tightened around my chest, reducing my lungs to the size of my fist. This was the beginning of a panic attack, but Myra wasn’t even in the bloody room. The footage had been shot hours ago, maybe even days. She was locked up in a detention center where she couldn’t shoot me in the head, so why was my body acting like I was staring down the barrel of her gun?
Maxwell turned to me and frowned. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah.” The word came out a shaky breath.
Orlando poured me a large glass of water. “Drink this.”
“Gideon turned around. “I can take you home—”
“No.” I shook my head and raised the glass to my lips. “This is fine.”
Kendrick’s eyes narrowed as though to ask if I was sure. I gave him a shaky nod, but he didn’t turn back to the screen.
The roar of blood between my ears, combined with the heavy breathing muffled the first part of the interview. Shit. I had to get it together. It wasn’t like I was facing a dog. I forced myself to exhale, which was what I’d read in Cosmo was good for staving off panic attacks, and turned to Elizabeth’s table.
Elizabeth sat with an unwrapped choc ice, her mouth gaping open and her wide eyes fixed on the screen.
The interviewer’s voice drifted back into my awareness. That’s when I noticed that the camera only focused on Myra. It looked like whoever sat next to the interviewer was holding a hidden camera and not doing too smooth a job because they couldn’t stop it from jerking.
“How would you describe your relationship with the Liddells?” asked the interviewer.
“I never really met the archbishop or the uncle.” She said with a shrug. “And I only saw the mother on the few times she visited the school chapel. I suppose I was on better terms with the priest.”
The interviewer paused. “Pardon?”
“Father Neapolitan.” Myra rested her chin on her hand. “He’s sort of an uncle because Elizabeth’s granddad had him out of wedlock.”
My throat dried, and all notions of the Liddells not thinking I knew about our familial connection flew out through the dining room’s double doors.
“You mean, the former Lord Liddell?” asked the interviewer.
“That’s the one.”
“How would you describe your relationship with Elizabeth Liddell?” asked the interviewer.
Myra slumps in her seat. “We loved each other.”
“As friends?”
“As lovers,” she said with a sniffle. “I would have done anything for that girl.” Whatever Myra said next became muffled with her sobs, and her face twisted with anguish.
By now, I thought someone would say something, the way they screeched while Elizabeth had uncovered my family secrets, but the students sat forward, transfixed by this prison-grade gossip.
“When I spoke to Elizabeth, she implied that she was helping you come to terms with your sexuality with prayer.”
Myra reared back, her teeth bared into a snarl. “That girl counts prayer as me worshipping the temple between her legs.”
Elizabeth shot to her feet. “It’s a lie!”
“Shut up,” someone roared from the back.
“Slander!” She threw her choc ice at the screen, distorting Myra’s face with a smear.
What Myra outlined Elizabeth’s slimming pill empire, which she upgraded to cocaine pills after obtaining the drugs to plant in another student’s room. I folded my arms across my chest, not knowing if I should feel gratitude or annoyance that she hadn’t exonerated me on TV. As the list of Elizabeth and her family’s misdeeds continued, I shook off those thoughts. Right