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Mrs. Shepard’s mouth snapped shut. “Get up and get dressed. All students to the chapel in ten minutes.”
Then she closed the door and was gone. It wasn’t until that moment that I heard the commotion. Mrs. Shepard wasn’t the only one banging on doors. There were some shouts, a few drawer slams in adjacent rooms, and the sounds of people whispering furtively.
“Oh God,” I said, looking at Josh. The blankets were curled so tightly in my fists the seams were cutting my palms. “Oh God. Josh?”
His skin was waxy and pale, his curls sticking out haphazardly as he whipped the covers off and got up. “We don’t know anything yet. Don’t freak out. Maybe they found Astrid. Maybe it’s fine.”
I took a deep breath and nodded, but I felt as if no oxygen had made it past my nose. Josh quickly yanked his jeans on and reached for his sweater as I tried to make myself breathe. Tried not to think about Lorna. Tried not to imagine the worst.
We dressed quickly and raced across campus with all the other clumps of confused, bleary-eyed students. When we finally shuffled into the chapel, my eyes flicked to the pew where I usually sat with my friends, but no one was sitting where they were supposed to be. Guys were on the girls’ side, freshmen were in the back, seniors along with juniors up front. Josh and I exchanged a glance and slipped into the end of the last pew. I looked around for Lorna and Constance, who was Lorna’s roommate in Pemberly, but I didn’t see them. Josh’s arm had been locked around my shoulders from the moment we walked out the door of my room and it was still there. I leaned into him, noticing the expressions on the faces around me. Kids were scared, confused, tired, concerned. But it was the adults who really disturbed me. Housemothers and male dorm advisors stood along the walls of the chapel, men with their hair sticking up on one side, women devoid of makeup, none of them talking, none of them daring to look anyone in the eye. Their faces all held slight variations of the same emotion: dread.
“Any idea what this is all about?”
Noelle slid into the seat at the end of the aisle, forcing Josh and me to scoot toward the center. She’d taken the time to brush her hair and swipe on mascara and lip gloss. Apparently I’d gotten my sense of urgency from my mother’s side.
I felt a sudden stab of righteous anger and turned to Noelle. “Tell me you and your grandmother had nothing to do with this,” I said through clenched teeth,
“What?” Noelle said breathlessly.
“Tell me this isn’t another test for me. Or for Astrid and Lorna. Just swear to me, Noelle.”
A flash of irritation lit her eyes, but she blinked it away. “Reed. I swear,” she said, laying a hand on my arm. “I have absolutely no idea what’s going on.”
I turned away, tears filling my eyes. I wanted to believe her, but at this point, I had no idea what to believe anymore.
“Wait … Lorna?” she asked. “Why did you—”
“This is about her,” I heard myself say. “She’s dead.”
“What?” Noelle gasped.
“Reed, come on,” Josh said, putting his hand over mine. “You don’t know that.”
He gave Noelle a look I couldn’t read, and I closed my eyes as a tear slipped down my cheek. Just then, the double doors behind us closed quietly and I heard footsteps hurrying down the center aisle. I didn’t have to open my eyes to know it was Headmaster Hathaway and a troupe of police. The din in the room momentarily grew to a fevered pitch, then quieted to a lull, indicating that the headmaster had reached the podium. There was a slam, and I forced myself to look up. The headmaster, wearing a full suit but no tie, with a good growth of stubble on his usually razor-scoured chin, cleared his throat.
“Stude
nts and faculty, I’m afraid I have a grave announcement,” he said.
Josh’s arm tightened around me. I felt Noelle stiffen in her seat. Whispers whisked around the room.
“Despite our efforts to increase security, and despite the police presence on campus—”
I heard the sarcasm in his voice as he looked over at my old pal Detective Hauer, who stood in the corner in his usual uniform—rumpled blazer, creased shirt, cotton tie. This is your fault, the headmaster was saying silently. I have to do this because you refused to take Astrid Chou’s disappearance seriously.
“Another student, Lorna Gross, has gone missing.”
The collective gasp in the room was so predictable it was almost funny. But all I heard were the words gone missing. Not been killed. Not died. I felt an odd sensation that was somewhat akin to hope.
Meanwhile, both Josh and Noelle were staring at me. Josh because, I suppose, he was starting to believe that I was actually psychic. Noelle, I’m sure, wondering how I knew it was Lorna. I touched the locket around my neck and breathed in and out.
“The police have now launched a full investigation into both these disappearances,” the headmaster continued, raising his voice to be heard over the whispered questions and quiet sobs. “In the meantime, the board of directors has decided that, for your safety, Easton Academy will close its doors until further notice.”
Now the noise was uncontrollable. Several students stood up. Some even made for the door. There were shouts and slams and, somewhere, an out-of-place laugh.
The headmaster picked up a gavel and brought it down several times on the top of the podium.
“Silence! Silence, please!” he shouted. Everyone quieted immediately. “Just give me two more minutes of your time.” His voice was uncharacteristically plaintive. Like he was begging for our patience, our sympathy, our help. He pressed both hands to the sides of the podium and bent at the waist, bringing his face close to its surface for a moment as he gathered himself. Double H was hanging on by a thread. For the first time since I’d known him, my heart went out to him. He took a deep breath and straightened up.
