Page 25 of Friend
I once asked him, why—if they were trying to keep Bianca hidden—they decided to enroll her into our school. He’d explained that they already had the perfect cover: even before her adoption, both of them had already pulled back from their proxy responsibilities. Because of that, their almost non-existent involvement would not raise questions from the center group nor the council.
And it was far less suspicious to hide Bianca in plain sight. Leaving this world behind entirely, like Mr. Geier’s mother had when she vanished, would raise questions.
“Because of that, I have no idea who they’ve become,” he said. “What do you think?”
I rarely saw the others, but I did know my brother. He had deep feelings for his quintet, and he was passionate about those he cared about.
I was sure that he would rather die than hurt her.
“I think…” As much as it hurt to imagine her with anyone else, I always knew it would happen. “I think they’re good people. They’ll do whatever it takes to make sure she gets better.”
Mr. Geier didn’t answer immediately, and when he did, he sounded different. “Thank you.”
“What?” What was he thanking me for?
“I don’t say this enough,” he said. “Finn, I want to thank you for everything you do for her.”
“Sure.” My stomach turned uneasily at the undeserved praise. “I need to go,” I said quickly, more than ready for this conversation to end, before I hung up the phone.
I stared down at the device and a sense of relief passed through me. Bianca wasn’t going to go out with Cory. This was a good thing.
So why did this entire conversation leave a sense of foreboding?
Bianca wasn’t waiting for me outside the next morning.
“You made her angry yesterday.” Kiania stirred in my thoughts. “You embarrassed her.”
I knew that, but this was still unlike her. Unless…
I almost dropped her coffee as I hurried to pull out my phone. Maybe I imagined it earlier—but no, Abigail had even texted me that she’d come to school today.
So where was she?
Cory was probably already here. The baseball team practiced early, and Bianca—even angry—would never deviate from our routine.
Even more important thanhim, however, was this growing unease in my stomach about Adrian Collins. He’d been mostly just an annoyance—but Bianca’s book…
I had to find out what he’d been up to.
“Do you need me to go look for her?” Kiania asked.
No.
I still shook my head and touched my temples. The combination of exhaustion and stress was making it hard to think, but I wasn’t desperate enough to summon Kiania.
At least, not yet. I could only use her very sparingly. Bianca’s medication might prevent her from seeing spirits, but I could never be too sure.
I clutched the paper cup, my heart pounding as I tried to control my racing thoughts. I should check the classrooms.
Would she go ahead without me?
My jaw was tight as I stormed through the hallways. I could hardly hear anything through the rising buzz in my ears. There was a stirring in my stomach—the unsettling feeling that something wasn’t quite right; and as I rounded the corners to our lockers, it was almost suffocating.
I knew, without seeing the evidence of her absence, that she wouldn’t be this way. My steps slowed, and I was almost to our lockers before another option came to mind.
The roof.
I turned back, slipped past my loitering classmates and through crowded hallways until I reached a narrow stairwell on the other side of the building.
