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Because this is tearing her up inside. I can’t stand to see her suffer, and I can’t believe you could stand it either, much less be responsible.” A memory flashed in my mind—Mom with bobby pins in her mouth, braiding my hair for the Autumn Ball. I refused to dwell on it. “I can’t have a relationship with people who can’t be honest with me.”
“You’re looking at this situation in its most extreme light. You’re a teenager; I guess it comes with the territory—”
“It’s not because I’m a teenager!” Quickly I glanced around—no students in sight, human or vampire. “Tell me what happens if I refuse to ever take a human life.”
“That’s not an option for you.”
“I think it is.” Still, he couldn’t tell me the truth. So much for my having a right to be upset, or Dad admitting he made a mistake. “What if that’s my choice?”
“Bianca, that is not something you can choose. Not ever. Don’t let your temper get in the way of reason.”
“We’re done,” I said, walking off. I wondered if he’d follow me, but he didn’t.
That night, I lay in Mrs. Bethany’s bed. My brooch sat upon the nightstand, Raquel’s artwork was almost as bright as a night-light upon the wall, and I tried to take as much pleasure in the colors, and in my plans, as I had before. But I kept thinking about my mother. This is tearing her apart.
As long as I was angry with Mom and Dad—and I was still furious—
the separation from them didn’t have to hurt. In other moments, I remembered how close we had always been, and then I missed them so badly I ached.
What I had lost was lost forever. Wasn’t it? I didn’t know how to look at the lies they’d told any other way.
The door of the carriage house banged open, and I jumped out of bed.
“Who’s there?” I cried, before thinking that if it were an intruder, I might have done better to stay quiet.
The intruder proved to be Mrs. Bethany, which wasn’t that reassuring. Though it was late, she wore the same dress she’d had on in class today, as if she’d been at work a very long time. Her eyes blazed. “Come with me.”
“Where are we going?”
“To face your accuser and hopefully discredit her.”
What was that supposed to mean? My stomach sank with dread. “I—
well—just let me get dressed.”
“A robe will be sufficient. We must settle this question immediately.”
Obviously no further explanation would be coming. With shaky hands, I put on my bathrobe and knotted the belt. I managed to slip the brooch into my pocket without Mrs. Bethany noticing; I felt like I needed it near.
Once I put the obsidian pendant around my neck, Mrs. Bethany led me across the grounds toward the school. High atop the north tower, several windows burned brightly—including the one that I’d guessed was Charity’s. “Are my parents up there?”
“I wasn’t under the impression you would be interested in their company any longer,” Mrs. Bethany said, her long skirts trailing in the grass.
She never looked back, taking it for granted that where she led, I would follow. “You can manage perfectly well on your own, I’m sure.” I wasn’t sure she really wanted me to manage. Mrs. Bethany was clearly furious, but I couldn’t yet determine whether she was angry at me or someone else. Given that we were headed for Charity’s room, I suspected it was someone else.
We ascended the winding stone steps in silence, as I nervously fiddled with the belt of my robe. I knew that my “accuser” had to be Charity, but what could she possibly accuse me of?
Then I knew. Fear clamped me in its hold like a fist. I stopped in front of the door, unwilling to go inside. “Mrs. Bethany—if you and I could just talk—”
She reached past me to open the door, then pushed me within.
Charity sat in a high-backed chair in the very center of the room, wearing an Evernight uniform, the only intact clothes I’d ever seen her in. Primly she folded her hands in her lap. She looked so deceptively—
ordinary. I realized with a shock that somebody else was in the room, too: Balthazar, who sat on a small bench in the corner. Judging from his slumped posture and the sick expression on his face, I knew that Balthazar hadn’t joined her in accusing me. He, too, was one of the accused.
I sat beside him on the bench without being prompted. Balthazar gave me the most desolate look I had ever seen.
Mrs. Bethany demanded, “Miss More, please repeat what you told me earlier this evening.”
