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Frank scoffed. “Are you kidding? Nora knows everything about everyone.”
“It’s true, I do.” Nora winked.
“You weren’t at dinner, so we grabbed some lasagna for you too,” Julie put in. “In case you want some real food before the sugar coma.”
I blinked at her, feeling overwhelmed. It occurred to me that this was the first time Julie had been here with us instead of off with Drew on a weekend, and I felt a pulse of gratitude that she’d cared enough to be involved in this impromptu birthday party.
“Thank you, guys,” I said with feeling, and was only a little uncomfortable when Nora threw her arms around me and squeezed, holding on while the other two piled on.
I wondered for a second what the three of them would think when I disappeared tomorrow, and if I should leave a note, or even just tell them I was going, but then I firmly pushed the thought out of my head. I could deal with all that tomorrow. Tonight, I was going to drown myself in cake and ice cream—and a hundred other desserts, by the looks of it—and revel in the thought that my roommates had cared enough to go to all this trouble for me.
* * *
Julie’s prediction of a sugar coma had been nothing if not accurate. After I devoured the lasagna—maybe I’d been hungry after all—we put on a couple of brainless action movies and worked our way through the truly ridiculous amount of sugar they’d managed to smuggle from the dining hall. I was pretty sure I’d never been so full in my life, and by the time the second movie ended, I was halfway to comatose and could barely imagine getting up off the couch, let alone dragging myself all the way to my bed.
Julie was the first to slip out, off to meet Drew after all, even though I thought it must be after midnight by then. Her bruises from earlier in the week had faded considerably, and she’d been able to hide them completely under her makeup. I hoped she would be able to avoid a repeat.
Frank gave up next, yawning widely and waving her hand vaguely to indicate she’d clean up in the morning before disappearing into her room.
“I’m off to bed too,” Nora finally announced. “Did you have a good night?”
I nodded sleepily. “I really did. Thank you for doing all this.”
She snorted. “Are you kidding? This was nothing. If we’d been at my house we would’ve had a band, and my dad would’ve made us cocktails. We could have invited everyone you know and stayed up all night swimming and dancing.” Her voice broke on a yawn.
I didn’t bother to tell her she pretty much had invited everyone I knew, just smiled anyway. “This was perfect,” I told her, and when she returned my smile, I knew she understood.
And I hadn’t lied. It had been perfect. The perfect last night at Lost Lake Academy.
She bid me goodnight and crossed to her room, and her door was practically shut before she poked her head out through the opening. “Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. You got a couple of birthday cards in the mail. They’re on the shelf over there.”
She gestured toward the bookshelf in the corner, then ducked her head back in and closed the door.
Suddenly I was awake again.
What?
In all the time I’d been here, there’d never once been a piece of mail addressed to me. Who the hell would write to me? An old friend, maybe? But they wouldn’t have known I was here.
I crossed to the bookshelf and picked up the two envelopes, flipping the first one to check the return address.
Naomi Moretti.
Huh. I’d never received a birthday card from my aunt in my life; I wasn’t sure why she’d start now. Unless she was suddenly feeling guilty, which seemed unlikely.
I tore open the envelope and pulled out a crisp white card with a generic birthday greeting on the front. I opened it to the message inside.
Camilla,
Happy 18th birthday. Feel free to buy something with my credit card to celebrate the occasion. I hope you are enjoying your time at school. I received a letter addressed to you, which I have forwarded on as well.
Best wishes,
Naomi
Good lord. Buy something with my credit card. I snorted to myself. Maybe I fit in here more than I’d expected. But what did she mean, she’d received a letter addressed to me? Maybe that one was from an old friend.
Setting my aunt’s card aside, I picked up the other letter. This one was also from my aunt, but when I ripped open the envelope there was a second envelope inside. This one had my name written on the front, and I recognized my mom’s handwriting even before I saw the return address in the corner. My blood turned to ice inside my veins.
