It doesn’t take much to get into the school’s messaging system. A prompt bribe for a couple of workers in admin, promising new vehicles and cash, and they were happy to help.
“Are you sure about this?” Dean asks nervously as I type into the computer. “It’s going to be mayhem.”
“Positive. If she’s a student, she’ll get the message. If not, then we’ve at least eliminated thousands of girls from the list of possibilities,” I argue, finishing the message. “You ready?”
Dean taps his fingers incessantly on the table beside me. Silence hangs heavy in the air while I wait for his response.
I know this is a lot for my rule-following brother, but this is a good risk. We might actually find her this way. I know he wants that just as badly as I do.
A small smile tugs at the corners of his lips, and his eyes find mine with an intensity I’m not sure I’ve seen before. “Send it.”
I click, scheduling the message to send tests to Dean and me before sending it out to the full contact list tomorrow at noon.
It processes through, and a second later, a confirmation appears on the screen. Five seconds more, and my phone chimes, along with Dean’s.
I open the text to make sure it’s right, and it’s absolutely perfect.
Come on, Princess. It’s time to come out of hiding.
Our Mystery Girl, This past weekend, a woman wearing a blue gown and mask swept us off our feet. If this was you, meet us tonight, in our special place. Please, Princess. We just want to see you again. —Asher and Dean Kensington
“These are marvelous, Ms. Matthews. Excellent work so far,” Professor Borison praises, nearly bringing me to tears.
“Really? Thank you so much, seriously.” I stare down at the gown collection I’m working on for my Fashion Illustration class. I’m quite proud of what I’ve done so far.
Annoyingly, it’s partly inspired by the work I did for Adrianna’s engagement dress. Tons of beading, lace work, and intricate lines that create unique and flattering silhouettes.
I’m hoping this project can double as my blueprint for the pieces I have to construct for Dr. Salvador’s class next semester.
I wouldn’t see why not, but sometimes, professors have dumb rules for such things.
“I can’t wait to see it when it’s all finished.” She smiles up at me from her desk. “Elijah Jackson, you’re up.”
Grabbing my sketchbook, I head back to my desk to keep working, feeling inspired as ever. I get lost in it. Multiple students are called up for review with Professor Borison before I even notice my entire row is done.
Chatter grows throughout the class, murmurs and whispers filling the room. It takes a moment for me to come out of my stupor and realize that the noise is growing tenfold by the second.
Squeals sound sporadically throughout the room, and I look around frantically, wondering if there’s secretly a puppy or cute animal running around that I’m somehow missing.
“Quiet down,” Professor Borison orders. “Phones away.”
Her order has the opposite effect, as everyone who didn’t already have their phones out retrieves theirs, including me, keeping it face down because I’m still scared to see.
“Did you see it? DeanandAsher? A girl’s dream come true.” A girl in the row in front of me swoons.
Oh God. What is happening?
I carefully flip my phone over, terrified that I’m about to be exposed somehow and my entire life will be upended. Adrianna is going to literally kill me or burn me alive, along with the house.
As I read the message from the HEAU admin—a rather unusual message from them, I might add—my heart leaps into my throat.
Our Mystery Girl, This past weekend, a woman wearing a blue gown and mask swept us off our feet. If this was you, meet us tonight, in our special place. Please, Princess. We just want to see you again. —Asher and Dean Kensington
What. The. Actual. Hell?!
How is this happening right now? How is this real life? I thought they would drop it or give up eventually! Not turn the entire school into a zoo to lure me out.
Jules is already spamming me.
