Page 84

“What did you do, Ella?” Tiffany waves her hands in my face. “Bat your eyes and tell him some sad little story until he took pity on you?”

My hand moves before I think.

I shove her.

Hard.

She stumbles back into Charlotte, who yelps and grabs the dresser.

For one second, all three of us freeze.

Then Charlotte lunges.

She hits me with her shoulder, and I go backward into the side of the bed. Pain shoots through my hip, and something in me snaps.

I pounce on her.

We crash against the mattress and then half onto the floor, limbs tangled, hands grabbing for hair, sleeves, skin.

Charlotte scrapes my arm with her nails. I grab her wrist and shove it away.

Tiffany tries to pull me off, and I elbow her. She shrieks like I’ve stabbed her.

“You psycho!” Charlotte yells.

“You came into my room!” I shout back. “You looked at my bed!”

“Because you’re a slut!”

I slap her across the face.

Then the door slams open. “What in God’s name is going on?”

Audrey Steppe stands in my doorway.

Charlotte is on the floor, hair wild, one hand pressed to her cheek. Tiffany clutches the dresser. I’m kneeling half over Charlotte, breathing hard, my uniform twisted, hair coming loose from its knot.

And my bed is visible behind us, the blanket pulled halfway up.

The sheet beneath is still exposed at the corner.

Audrey sees everything.

Charlotte starts to cry. “She attacked me.”

I shake my head. “That’s not⁠—”

“She went crazy,” Tiffany says, voice trembling. “We only came to check on her, Audrey. We were worried after last night.”

Audrey looks at me with hatred in her eyes. “Get up.”

I rise slowly.

Charlotte scrambles to her feet with Tiffany’s help, both of them sniffling.

“Charlotte and Tiffany,” Audrey says, “you’re excused. Get to work, please.”

Charlotte gives me one last smug smile as she passes. The door closes behind them.