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My feet have turned to lead. I watch the younger students troop obediently upstairs. “You’re telling me Antiro’s not eventryingto dispel the criticism that they’re basically Nazis? Now they’re taking inspiration?”
“I mean, criticism from whom?” Rory asks bitterly. “At this point, it feels like five people and a dog.”
Just as I’m about to state my interest in this particularly perceptive dog, Finlay says, “That disnae meanthisis Crystal Night. This could just be…” But as he glances at the students still marching their way upstairs in single file, he sighs. “Shit’s goin’ down, isn’t it?”
“Danny,” I whisper sharply, watching him ascend the stairs.
He manages to hear me, cocking a curious brow in our direction. After glancing around to check for teachers, he dashes across to join us in the passageway. “What are you all doing here?”
Rory pins him with a searching look. “How much do you know about Kristallnacht?”
Nonplussed by the history test sprung on him, Danny blows out a long breath. “Well, let’s see. November, 1938 — the ninth, I think? State-sponsored persecution of Jewish people. Their places of worship and properties were vandalized and destroyed. So-called because of all the broken glass. When Jews tried leaving the country, their passports had a bright red ‘J’ and they were denied citizenship.” He pauses, noting our blank faces. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”
Faintly, I manage, “You know all that, but for some reason, you think ‘megalomania’ is a dinosaur.”
Danny shrugs. “I took history instead of politics?”
“It’s happenin’,” Finlay mutters, looking alarmed. “I think it’s happenin’. Kristallnacht. Tonight. They said tonight.”
“What else did Antiro say?” Rory urges.
“I couldnae get a straight answer. It was a’ about them bidin’ their time for Crystal Night. Course,Ithought Crystal Night was a lassie, so none o’ it made sense in the first place, but…” He pauses. “God, I’m such an idiot.”
It’s almost audible, Rory biting his tongue to keep himself from agreeing. “We could have had more information.”
“I didnae know,” Finlay whines. “I was already a target, bein’ undercover. If I’d pressed the issue, I’d have looked even mair suspicious.”
“I know,” Rory sighs. “You were very brave.” Finlay’s face lights up with a delightful mix of pride and loyalty. “I just wish we had control over… anything.”
Danny glances between each of us. “So you’re saying, what, that Antiro’s repeating it? Kristallnacht?”
“Well, I don’t think Antiro’s beef is with Jewish people exactly. But, yes. Their own version of it. I’d hazard a guess that right now, in the cities across the UK tonight, something terrible is occurring. Enough for class to be canceled and dinner cut short, and no teacher breathing a word until they can formulate the perfectly crafted, non-offending response.”
“This place is usually a tightly run ship,” I say miserably. “It must have even taken Baxter by surprise.”
“But not Hodgson,” Danny ruminates. “Did you see how happy he was earlier? I think he knew this was happening — and that he wanted it to.”
“Tonight… whit are we daein’? D’ye think we can still use oor politics class?”
But Rory shakes his head. “No. Everyone’s on high-alert. We’ll meet tomorrow. After that, it’s the trip — if they don’t cancel it — and then, maybe, we’ll get a bit more space to talk.”
* * *
In the morning, the response from teachers is muted. Dr. Moncrieff is notably absent. Only Mr. Stevenson, our English teacher, spills that shit went down, though he never says precisely what. He doesn’t look particularly pleased, either, not at all displaying the grin Hodgson had worn at breakfast, so bright and manic it’s as though it’d been powered by a jet engine. It’s something. It’s more doubt than we’ve had from any other teacher aside from Moncrieff.
It’s also the first time, I notice, that Arabella raises her hand in class. Mr. Stevenson nods at her.
“The views expressed in this novel are extremely hurtful to the marginalized and marginalized-adjacents,” she declares solemnly. “I couldn’t read past page twelve. I feel a content warning would have been appropriate.”
As our study ofFrankensteinis derailed, Rory rolls his eyes. I try to decipher whatmarginalized-adjacentmeans, but also, weirdly, I’m pleased Arabella is talking again. It’s like old times.
Rory doesn’t fail to notice, either. “Nice of you to pipe up,” he sneers. “Funny how it’s after whatever happened last night. Got that euphoric Antiro victory in your system?”
“I don’t know what happened last night. Nor does anyone else.”
“Oh, please. I’m sure your aunt informed you.”
“Are you accusing me of lying?”
