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“So you said it’s about the school. Which specific aspects of it are you interestedin?”
“Its history, I suppose,” I said. “More specifically, its historical relation to secretsocieties.”
Her forehead wrinkled. “Is this because of the Medusa Society?” she asked. “I remember you saying you were going to jointhem.”
I hesitated. “Sort of, but not really. I’m more interested in the secret society that supposedly existed here when the campus was a university. The one all those urban legends areabout.”
“Ah, Isee.”
“Have you heard any of thoselegends?”
She nodded. “Yes. Everyone has,” she said. “I think the most common one is the story about the girl found at one of the abandoned buildings back in the nineties, and how she was murdered by a cabal of evil men. Have you heard that onebefore?”
“Yeah.” I nodded slowly. “Some people think she might’ve been an early Medusa Societymember.”
“Yes. I thought this wasn’t about the Medusas,though?”
I straightened my shoulders. “It’s not. Sorry, I’m getting a bit off-track,” I said. “Anyway, I was wondering if you know much about what this place was like when it was still a university, or if there’s somewhere you could point me to that might hold some information about it. I’ve tried Googling it, and there’s nothing but a small Wikipedia entry saying that RFU was a university here in Royal Falls which closed down and was converted into RFA at the end of 1988. There’s no alumni website or discussion forum, or anything likethat.”
“I suppose that makes sense, seeing as it closed down so long ago,” Ms. Flores mused, scratching herchin.
“Yes, but it’s annoying, because there’s so much I want toknow.”
“Well, I wasn’t a student at RFU. I was only born a few years before it closed,” she said. “But I know some of the staff here attended it back in theday.”
I perked up. “Really?”
“Yes. Headmaster Sanders, for example. He got his teaching degree from RFU before heading off to Harvard for gradschool.”
“So if therewasa secret society for men that started at RFU when it was still open, he might know aboutit.”
She shrugged. “Maybe.”
“I guess it’s too bad I can’t ask him about it,” I said, shoulders slumping. I didn’t trust Sanders enough to approach him with anything related to this subject, especially if there was a chance he was taking money from the Network to allow them to exploit the girls of the MedusaSociety.
“So is that the crux of your interest in RFU?” Ms. Flores asked. “Whether or not the stories about the secret society have any basis inreality?”
“Yes.” I lowered my voice. “I can’t say too much about this, but I have a theory that itwasreal, and I think they’re still operating in Royal Falls. I think some of their activity goes on right here at this school,too.”
“Can’t say it would surprise me if that were true,” Ms. Flores said, rolling her eyes slightly upward. “I don’t think anything could surprise me about this place anymore. But I’m not sure how much I can help you. Like I said before, I don’t really know much aboutRFU.”
“I wasn’t sure if you would,” I replied. “But I figured you’d still know more than me, so you might be able to give me suggestions on how to find outmore.”
She leaned forward and rested her chin on her hands, elbows planted on the desk. “Hm. I suppose you could try asking someone who attended the university while it was still open. They might remember hearing whispers about a secret society being formed here back then. They might’ve even been a member,” she said. “But… if they were, you’re unlikely to get answers that way. There’s a reason they’re called secret societies.” She waved a hand. “So go ahead and scrap that suggestion. Sorry, I’m just thinking outloud.”
“It’sokay.”
Her face brightened. “Ooh. I might have an idea foryou.”
“What isit?”
“Bear with me for this explanation. It’ll take a minute,” she said with a faint smile. “When I was in college, I studied sociology as a minor, and I did a class on secret societies and their representations in popular culture, mostly because it sounded like fun. Anyway, I remember one of the professors saying that some secret societies like to send signals to others who are in the know. Like a privatejoke.”
“What sort ofsignals?”
Her nose wrinkled. “From what I remember, it could be anything, really. Something that they all recognize immediately, but non-members would just skim right over. Like a code word they all use, which has some sort of other meaning to them than the usual meaning. Or a certain thing they all wear. Like a signet ring, perhaps. Or atattoo.”
“Oh.”
