And yet, I’m staring at a closed door. This door is the only one on our hall that hasn’t been flung open in the past minute, which captures my attention. The person behind this door has somehow managed to ignore the agonizing screech. Or she’s the victim. It’s Gul’s door.
Something must be going on in there. Something Gul, or someone else, doesn’t want us to see. If it’s the latter, the attacker must still be cornered inside.
I’m going to find out who it is.
I take another step toward the closed door and reach for the knob.
“Charlotte, let me,” Mikhail commands, putting a heavy hand on my shoulder. “It is my job.”
“Be my guest.”
Mikhail advances toward the door, his body taut with energy, with Ms. Poppin on his heels.
I watch with baited breath.
Beside me, Adrienne braces herself with her arms wrapped across her chest.
Ricardo nudges me with his elbow and lifts his chin toward my sister. She’s watching after Mikhail with wide, frightened eyes. Ricardo starts to chuckle, but I shoot him an admonishing look. “This is not the time.”
Sobering immediately, he slings an arm around my shoulders and squeezes gently. “Just trying to cut the tension.”
Together, we creep up behind Mikhail and Ms. Poppin while Adrienne hangs back with the rest of the crowd.
Mikhail opens the door a slit and pokes his head inside. After a moment, he retreats, gesturing for Ms. Poppin to enter.
I follow.
Gul is curled up in a ball on the floor, sobbing into her scraggly hair, which hangs over her face in sweaty strings. She doesn’t look up when we enter.
On a gasp, Ms. Poppin kneels down and tries to pull Gul to a sitting position, with not much success.
My gaze swings past them, moving over the rest of the room. On the desk, Gul’s phone is playing a video on a loop. I snatch it up and watch the screen.
The footage was shot at night, from a car’s dashboard. I squint as the car passes under several street lamps, its headlights off. Bright white light flashes as the headlights spring to life, illuminating a man standing a few feet ahead in the middle of a crosswalk. The driver doesn’t hesitate. With a screech, the car accelerates, ramming into the man and hurtling down the street away from the academy. The body is flung along the street and lands with a crunch. It’s apparent from the video that it IS a body, not a living person any longer.
It’s Professor Rook’s death, playing in an unending loop.
Words flash along the bottom of the screen: “You’re next.” Then the video begins again.
Ms. Poppin asked Mikhail to herd everyone back to their rooms before she ran downstairs to rouse the headmistress. She left Adrienne, and I alone with Gul, tasking us with watching over her until she could get help.
In the hallway, the security guard has been called up from the front door and is patrolling the corridor. Ms. Poppin is obviously taking this threat to Gul very seriously, especially after last semester.
I shut off the video and manage to get Gul off the floor and onto her bed, where she’s sitting encased in a large, fluffy, floral-patterned blanket she’s brought with her every year since she started at the academy our sophomore year.
Saying she would be right back, Adrienne left at a near run.
Ricardo wanted to stay too, but I made him leave, thinking Gul would be more likely to speak candidly if he wasn’t around. He’s probably hovering outside hoping to hear our conversation. The idea of him being nearby is, curiously, comforting.
I give Gul an awkward pat on the back, and glance toward the door. What is taking Adrienne so long? She’s the one who’s good at sympathizing with and consoling people. Not me. I’m more the type to avoid situations like this because I simply don’t know what to say.
Finally.
Adrienne re-enters bearing a tray of brownies and a mug of hot chocolate, which she hands to Gul.
Gul holds the warm cup in both hands but doesn’t drink.
I help myself to one of Adrienne’s fudgy brownies and take a nibble. They’re chocolate heaven. I’m going to have to run a mile before tennis practice tomorrow to work off the calories, but it’s worth it.
“Thank you,” Gul whispers, her voice cracking. She won’t meet our eyes, I notice. “Is Headmistress Morgan coming?”
I look at Adrienne, who gives a shake of her head. “I didn’t see them on my way back from the student kitchen.” She sits on