Page 56 of Cruel Games

“Sorry,” I murmured. “This is the last time I’ll ever disappoint you.”

The smile he gave me was wry. It was the expression I’d seen on police officers who had heard similar heartfelt promises, only to know they’d be broken at the next opportunity.

“What will you do about Orlando and Maxwell?” I asked.

“I’ll speak to the Board of Governors and see if it makes a difference that they didn’t upload the video to the internet.”

I gulped. “What will you say about me?”

“I’ll keep your name out of the discussion.”

“Thanks.”

The following Sunday, Mr. Burgh paraded me around the village like a trophy, introducing me to everyone as his granddaughter. It had been odd at first, as people immediately remembered Mother and what she had done, but after the initial shock wore off, they were friendly and curious about where I had lived.

Later, I discovered from Kendrick that the board had cut down Orlando and Maxwell’s suspension to just a month, and they would return to the academy for the last few weeks of term. Hopefully, my intervention had softened their thirst for vengeance, but I had severe doubts.

Chapter 20

The next Saturday afternoon, I sat in Miss Martin’s classroom, trying to get the neckline right for a backless catsuit I needed to complete in time for the next Glasgow weekend. The whirring of sewing machines on my left and right filled my ear, drowning out the chatter of younger girls making a basic circle skirt.

Miss Martin wore charcoal-and-black tartan pants with a matching halter neck waistcoat, her hair piled on her head, secured with long hairpins. The only color in her ensemble came from her electric blue lipstick. The first and second years crowded around her, demanding help.

I shook my head, left my machine, and walked over to one of the tables to finish the neckline by hand. Students of all years were welcome in tailoring club, but it meant that the younger ones took up the teacher’s time with their constant questions.

“What’s that?” Maeve, the red-haired girl, took the seat next to mine.

I held it up. “Another clubbing outfit.”

“But you finished that asymmetrical dress. Aren’t you going to wear that?”

A smile crossed my lips. Gideon had loved his outfit, but I wasn’t about to tell her I hadn’t made it for myself. “A girl can never have too many clothes.”

She shook her head. “The way you sew, you could sit your exams now and get an A.”

With a laugh, I reached across the table and grabbed a box containing spools of thread. “Then I’d miss out on the chance to make new clothes.”

By the time I turned back to my catsuit, it was gone. A giggle from behind made me whirl around in my seat.

Elizabeth stood over me, holding my garment in one hand and a pair of sewing shears in another. My heart jumped into my throat, and I surged up to snatch at the catsuit.

She jumped back and cut a hole around its middle. “How clumsy of me!”

“You did that on purpose,” I snarled.

She widened her eyes. “I was looking for scrap fabric to make a pincushion.” Dropping my catsuit to the ground, she held up the cut fabric like it was a trophy. “Perfect.”

Blood roared in my ears, demanding that I do something now to teach her never to mess with a Hancock. But a small voice in the back of my head reminded me of what I had to lose by acting rashly. A home. A promising career. A grandparent. My nostrils flared, and I balled my hands into fists.

Maeve rushed over with Miss Martin, who picked up my catsuit and examined the damage. Elizabeth raised her head and smirked as though she was untouchable. It was the kind of expression I itched to slap off her pasty face.

Miss Martin shook her head. “If you spent more time improving your skills, you wouldn’t need to destroy the work of others.”

“That’s true.” Maeve placed her hands on her hips. “Everyone knows Lilah’s the best dressmaker in the academy.”

Other girls murmured their agreement.

Elizabeth’s jaw dropped. She glanced from side to side, her mouth flapping but not forming any words. I would have felt vindicated if I hadn’t already spent a week making that catsuit. If I started again, there’d be no time to finish it in time for the next Wank.