Page 116 of Riot House
53
ELODIE
The police officemurmurs into her radio, all business, as yet another cruiser tears up the driveway toward Wolf Hall Academy with its lights and sirens blaring. There are five patrol cars here now, though most of the cops who arrived with them are gone. They ran into the forest, heading south for the craggy knuckle of rock that can now be seen above the treetops in the early morning light, looking for the cave.
“And that’s it? That’s the whole story?” the officer asks, narrowing serious eyes at us, as she clips the radio back onto her belt. She introduced herself as Officer Haynes Hartung, but told us to call her Amy. “Ateacherdid this? YourEnglish teacher? Because of a student?”
Mercy’s in shock. She nods dumbly, staring at the steps in front of us. “Yeah. My brother. He carried Carina, but he—she—”
“I’ve just heard from one of the officers down at the hospital,” Amy says. “Both the boy and the girl are in rough shape but they’re stable. The girl would have died if she’d gotten there any later. Whatever your brother did, young lady, he saved her life.”
Something inside me snaps in two. I haven’t been able to breathe until now. Getting coherent words to form and come out of my mouth has been close to impossible, but hearing this news—both Wren and Carina are going to be okay—pushes me into hysteria.
I start crying, and I can’t fucking stop.
Mercy puts her arm around me, and the two of us sob.
One by one, disheveled students in frightful looking costumes begin to appear on the road, walking back up to the academy. Dean Harcourt ushers them each inside, telling them to go and wait in the cafeteria for someone to come and talk to them.
At nine in the morning, a crew of police officers emerge from the forest with Doctor Fitzpatrick hanging limp like a rag-doll between them. I hear the words ‘resisting arrest,’ and ‘psych hold’but I don’t really process much after that. Around midday, a bunch of guys in white coveralls that look like HAZMAT suits load a blue body bag into the back of a coroner’s van.
That’s when the detective arrives and begins asking us questions that I’m too numb to answer. Mercy does most of the talking. She knows more than I do about Mara anyway.
After that, we’re taken to the hospital to be checked out. Aside from a few cuts and scratches, as well as the soles of my feet being in a sorry state, there’s nothing really wrong with me. I don’t fight them on it, though.
I want to see Wren.
* * *
WREN
I felt bad when they loaded me onto the gurney and rushed me into the urgent care. I feel just fine now, though. Whatever drugs they’ve given me must have been potent as hell, because I feel like I’m floating on a cloud and my bones are made out of cotton candy. The police question me until I’ve answered the same set of questions fifteen times over. Someone comes to tell me that Carina’s improving, which I’m man enough to say makes my eyes sting like crazy. I find out Fitz has been taken into custody shortly after that, and everything gets a little hazy.
I sleep like thealmostdead.
At four, they bring me meds that make me a little more alert, and Elodie creeps into the room. She smiles a small smile, leaning her back against the wall on the far side of the room, picking at her fingernails.
“When I bought you that dress, I didn’t think you were gonna treat it so badly.” She’s covered in blood. Carina’s. Her’s. Perhaps there’s a bit of mine staining the fabric for good measure, too. The skirt’s torn to shreds and half of the crystals that were sewn onto the bodice are missing now. Still, even covered in dirt and looking like she just fought in a war, she’s beautiful. She smooths her hands down the front of the skirt, little good that it does.
“Yeah, well. I admit I didn’t actually take very good care of it at the beginning of the night. And after things went to shit with Fitz, well…” She shrugs. “I’m sorry it got ruined.”
I laugh down my nose, wincing when a snap of pain lances through my body. “It’s okay. You don’t need to apologize. You’ll be pleased to know that there won’t be any more Riot House parties for the foreseeable future. Dean Harcourt was here before. She said that we would all be expelled if we even thought about it.”
“Can’t really blame her,” Elodie says.
“No, I don’t suppose we can.” I take a beat to look at Elodie, feeling…feeling for the first time like the future might not be so fucked up after all. “I didn’t get to tell you that I liked your hair,” I tell her.
“Really?” She ducks her head, touching her fingers to it. “I thought you liked the blonde.”
“It doesn’t really matter what color your hair is, Little E. I’ll love you all the same, no matter what.”
She sighs, pushing away from the wall. She makes it to the foot of the bed, which is where she stops, resting her hands on the metal frame. “I’m surprised that you can still say that. That you love me. I feel like shit for thinking you’d have done something to that girl. I just—everything got so confusing—”
I brace myself, sitting myself up a little straighter. The thick gauze they taped over the stitches at the base of my neck pull tight, but I grimace through the pain. “I’m not angry with you. Anyone would have thought the same thing. I left that sweater in the gazebo, the night I told Wes I wanted nothing more to do with him. He must have kept it and given it to Mara later. He’s just as obsessed with poetry and Edgar Allen Poe. So long as you know now that I’m innocent—” A flash of panic makes me break out in a cold sweat. “You do know that Iaminnocent now, right?”
“Yes! Oh my god, yes! That’s why I feel so terrible.”
I hold my hand out to her. “Come here, then.”
