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Even if I wanted to get away, I’m stuck.
Despondency descends on me. I need to get out of this house. After rinsing my mug and plate, I grab my satchel and step outside. Two cars are waiting. Benoit drives me to school while three men follow in the second car. I don’t make a fuss. If anything, I’m grateful. I’m scared, but I can’t lock myself up and hide from Maxime’s enemies forever. Clutching my satchel, I look around for cars with tinted windows as we enter the city. I’m nervous. The tension snakes up my stomach and squeezes my chest.
“You can relax,” Benoit says. “We cleaned the streets up.”
I glance at him. “I’m really sorry about Gautier.”
His jaw bunches.
“I’ll understand if you think it’s my fault,” I say.
“I’m not an idiot.”
“That’s not what I said.”
“Look, it’s bad enough that I have to babysit you. Can we please not talk? I’m not exactly in the mood for conversation. If not for you—” He cuts off with a cussword, then swears some more under his breath.
I shrug. “Sure.” The nonchalant act costs me. It takes everything I have not to show him how guilty his words make me feel. It’s easier to roll the window down and pretend I’m staring outside.
Sighing, he wipes a hand over his beard. “Look, I’ve got nothing against you—”
“You don’t have to explain. I understand.”
When he parks in front of the school, I get out before he does. “Thanks for the ride,” I say before shutting the door.
I’m early, but when I arrive at the classroom, Madame Page and the other students are already there.
I pull out a chair next to Thérèse, and whisper, “I thought the class started at nine.”
“It does.” She gives me a bleary-eyed look. “Some of us aren’t lucky enough to get a free ride. We’re all putting additional time in and working extra hard to pass.”
“Mademoiselle Hart?” Madame Page calls from the front. “A word with you outside, please.”
All heads turn to me when I follow Madame Page outside. Benoit and one of the guards stand a short distance down the hallway. Madame Page startles at their presence. With their suits and dark glasses, there’s no guessing as to who or what they are, and what they’re doing here.
Ignoring them with visible effort, she shuts the classroom door and pushes her glasses over her head. “You may think you don’t have to attend classes like everyone else, but I won’t allow you to make an idiot of me and a joke of my course.”
“I’m really sorry I wasn’t here yesterday. I know it reflects poorly on me, especially since it was only the second day, but I assure you I’m very serious about this course. My absence was due to circumstances beyond my control.”
“Circumstances, mm?” Her look is sour. “That’s your excuse?”
“It’s not an excuse.”
“Then care to tell me why you didn’t grace us with your presence?”
“I… Um, personal reasons.”
“Personal reasons.” She purses her lips. “If this was anyone else, they would’ve been expelled.” She points a finger at me. “No absence without a doctor’s certificate. The fact that you’re here means someone else lost out on an opportunity, someone talented and willing to work. If you can’t appreciate what’s been given to you on a silver platter, at least try to respect the rules.”
“I’m sorry. I really am.” I can’t even say it won’t happen again, because my life isn’t in my own hands. Maxime decides. He controls my days, nights, hours, and minutes.
She drops her glasses back over her eyes. “Apology not accepted. Get inside and try not to disrupt the rest of the class, especially not Thérèse. She’s on the bottom of the ladder. If she can’t beat five of her fellow students, she’s out. Are we clear?”
“Yes,” I say, averting my eyes.
Embarrassment heats my cheeks as I follow her back inside, but I ignore the stares and arrange my pencils and sketchpad on the table. For the rest of the morning, I try to catch up on what I’ve missed. They’ve completed the first model on business theory. Even if practical isn’t until next year, all of them have brought in pieces for Madame Page’s feedback. That was what the others were working on until late last night. I’m a good seamstress with three years of experience, but I realize with a sinking heart they’re all better than me. If I’m to keep up, I’ll have to work at home. I’ll have to work harder and longer hours. I don’t have a choice but to use the sewing machine Maxime gave me, even if I was adamant about not touching it after finding out how I got into the school.
Madame Page announces a group project where we’re supposed to work in teams of two to hand-dye an organic textile for our textile science class. There’s a lot of excited whispering about it. Some of the girls already call out one another’s names to pair in teams.
