Page 22 of The Last De Loughrey Dynasty

The wordsof the girl I had met in chapel kept me awake that night. I lay in bed, staring at the old ceiling. The only light in the room came from the moon and the stars shining through thelarge windows. It was one fifty-four in the morning, according to the clock on my nightstand, when I heard the sound of my roommate’s bed creaking and soft footsteps on the floor. Closing my eyes, I pretended to be asleep, as I usually was at this time of night. I heard something shift before Maisie tiptoed away, and the creak of the door echoed in the stillness.

Once I was sure she was gone, I sat up in bed and waited a few minutes. There was no way I could just get up and follow her, not after Gwyneth had accused them of sneaking around, hiding secrets in the dark. Maisie was probably just spending the night in the boys' dorm, where she wasn’t allowed. Right now, it seemed likely that she was slipping under Nathaniel's duvet and burying herself in his arms.

I lay back down and turned onto my side. Sleep eventually took over, and when I next woke, Maisie was back in her bed. Perhaps it had all been a dream, just a seed Gwyn had planted in my mind, and I had let it grow.No. Stop.I wouldn’t bury the truth any longer. It was time to follow the white rabbit down the hole and uncover the bitter truths.

“Maisie,do you sometimes sleep in Nathaniel’s room?” I asked, as we were getting ready.

Brushing her short hair in front of the golden mirror, Maisie chuckled. “Heavens, no. Nathaniel shares his room with Jesse, and he quite enjoys my company. Nathaniel gets annoyed the moment Jesse pulls out scary films, because, in his eyes, when I’m over, we’re all supposed to have fun together.”

I stared at her reflection in the mirror for quite a while, the truth slowly sinking in. Swallowing the lump in my throat, Iput on my pearl earrings, then stood up and grabbed my bag, heading for the door.

“We’ll be late for history if we don’t hurry, and who knows, maybe we’ll end up burned at the stake for whatever Professor Kane decides to make up,” I said, recalling her words from yesterday. Despite my best efforts to mask it, coldness coloured my tone.

Maisie rushed after me, locking the door behind us before hurrying to catch up. She stumbled against my shoulder, loosening the bun at the nape of my neck. We’d spent too long at breakfast, and I hadn’t had time to braid or neatly arrange my hair as I usually did. I pushed my hair off my shoulders with an uncomfortable grunt, irritated by the tickling sensation. I quickened my pace, wanting to walk alone without Maisie beside me, constantly brushing against me.

I liked her, but I didn’t want anyone touching me—not today, not with my mind working so loudly.

“Is there a chance you’re angry with me, Doe?” my roommate asked, from behind.

I swallowed the truth. “No, I just don’t like being late.”

And perhaps you just confirmed that Gwyneth was right.

CHAPTER TWELVE

DOROTHEE

“Dorothee,I need some sort of description of the costume Martha should send to the school. You’re giving me a headache, child.”

“I’m sorry, can she just send me the costume I wore last year to Bethany’s party? It’s in a bag in my wardrobe, and the jewellery’s on one of the shelves next to my makeup desk.”

“Fine. Is there anything else?” Her voice suggested she wasn’t in the mood for a lengthy conversation.

“Yes, um, may I ask you something?” I hurried through the rain to the building where Chadwick’s office was located.

“You just did,” she sighed, sounding irritated. “Hurry up, I have a meeting in ten minutes, Dorothee. You know I’m busy.”

“Sorry to bother you, Mum.” I swallowed, glancing at my watch as I stood under a canopy to shield myself from the pouring rain. I still had five more minutes before my session officially started. “Could you give me Nana’s number? I’d like to call her on Friday to wish her a Happy Halloween. You know she loves it, and I miss her a lot.”

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line, and I leant against the cold stone wall of the corridor. My skirt wasnearly soaked through, and my legs were freezing. The weather had seemed much brighter this morning—it had tricked me into wearing my thin transparent tights instead of the lined ones.

“You’re doing so well, darling. I don’t want to risk her planting lies in your head again.”

“Nana’s old, Mum. She says a lot of things that are just stories she’s read in books or seen in films. You said it yourself, I’m doing well now, and I just miss her.”

Aside from missing her terribly, I had a few questions. Nana had always been the only one who truly believed me. I needed to know why. Was there something she knew that I didn’t?

“Dorothee—”

The door to Chadwick’s office opened, and I straightened up. “Sorry, Mum, I have to go. You can text me her number, and please make sure the costume goes out today so I can wear it on Friday. Goodbye.” I ended the call before waiting for a response. Perhaps that was a bit rude, but arguing with Cordelia De Loughrey was a losing game—so I didn’t bother. Either she’d text me the number, or she wouldn’t.

“Dorothee,” Chadwick greeted me as I walked in. “You seem to improve with each session.” He smiled, and I took a seat on the sofa where I always sat. It was incredibly comfortable, and I had the sense that he preferred the chair anyway.

“Thank you. I do feel better day by day, actually. I suppose this place is truly healing in some way.” Or perhaps I was just about to make sense of everything.

“I’ve noticed. And I must say, based on all the reports I’ve received from your tutors, your progress is extraordinary. You’re a talkative student who pays attention. You socialise with your classmates and spend a lot of time in the library or the common room rather than hiding away in your dorm. Those were issues you had before coming to Aquila Hall. While we’re not quite yetwhere we want to be, for now, you can be very proud of yourself, Dorothee.”

The reason for my progress, without any medication or anything else, was simple: now I was aware that none of it was ever in my head. All the fears and self-doubt were dark seeds planted by my parents, the doctors, and everyone else who made me question my own mind. But for obvious reasons, I hadn’t shared any of this with my psychologist. If I did, I’d probably end up in an asylum, since I now believed that everything I saw and dreamt of wasn’t a fantasy, but reality. Perhaps ghosts existed, and I could see them. Yeah, best to keep that to myself for now.

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