Page 57 of Bound By Fury

I bring the page up to my nose as I sniffle. The letters on the sign are so small, I can barely make them out:

JUSTICE FOR THE BEAUMONT CLARK SCHOOL

NEVER FORGET

Underneath the photo is a caption: Harper Willow hosts a demonstration of free speech.

I read the sign over and over, something tugging at the back of my mind.

I sway to the side.

“Whoa,” Lucas calls, but he sounds far away. “Harper?”

I shake my head, shuddering where his hands grip my shoulders.

“Sorry.” I shrug out of his touch, and the dizziness begins to subside, my hearing slowly returning. “I got so distracted during art lab today that I forgot to eat lunch.”

He stares at me, his eyebrows pinched together. But he doesn’t say anything.

I turn the page and stop cold.

A single photograph, a brown-skinned girl with a tightly coiled afro and glittering eyes.

Remembering Adiola Cane. 1958–1974.

I shut the book with a heavy thud.

All these disparate pieces—the burned-down school, a dead girl, a missing girl—and yet it feels like I’m still standing on the tip of the iceberg.

TWENTY

WE LEAVE THE LIBRARY IN a daze, the sun a too-bright contrast to the flickering fluorescents of the basement.

“You sure you’re okay?” Lucas asks tentatively, his fingers trailing down my arm as we turn toward Biltmore. I nod, but I avoid his eyes; how does he seem to see straight through me?

“Harper!” someone yells from the direction of the fountain. Beside me, Lucas stiffens.

“Mr. Matsoukas.” I grin despite the heaviness in my chest. It’s hard not to when the visual of him is so ridiculous. He’s waving his arm in the air so hard, his whole upper body sways with the movement.

“Oh please,” he laughs, holding up his hands in surrender. “When we’re just hanging around campus, you know you can call me Alastair! There’s no need for the formalities when we’re practically family.” The sound of his syrupy accent, all elongated vowels and lazy consonants makes me feel lighter somehow.

But I squint my eyes at the content of his words. Family? Really?

I’m pretty sure Gigi would have poisoned the Matsoukases with her secret plot of nightshade if she could’ve gotten away with it.

“I hope you’re settling in okay on campus! Not staying out past curfew anymore, I’m sure.” He waggles his eyebrows at me conspiratorially, and Lucas glances between us.

“No—no sir, I learned my lesson.”

“Well, I’m certainly glad to hear that!” Alastair turns his wide smile toward Lucas. “Son! I’m happy you’re here too. I’ve been meaning to catch up with you!”

Lucas crosses his arms over his chest, his cheeks growing a bit red. “Yeah, Dad, we should actually—”

“Kai’s grades are starting off stellar so far this semester, as usual. But it seems like the talk we had about your coursework for this year isn’t having the effect I thought it would.” Lucas’s mouth presses into a flat line.

“Hey,” Alastair says, snapping his fingers as he turns fully toward me now. “You know how he gets. Probably better than most of his friends. I need you to keep on top of him for me, Harp. Make sure he’s taking his meds.”

I’m not sure what to say, so I say nothing.