“I don’t believe that,” I say with frustration.
“Believe it!” he barks, making me jump, “and realize that snooping about in libraries when you’re meant to be in class is going to get you into trouble. Fuck, questioning what you’ve been told is going to get you into trouble.”
“With who?”
“You said your sister was clever, I’m guessing that’s a trait you didn’t inherit.”
“You’re saying I can’t ask questions?”
“Not when those questions sound very much like accusations.”
“I’m not accusing–”
“Yes, you are. You’re saying your sister died some other way – at least that’s what you believe – which would have to mean someone lied about it.”
“Yes,” I say firmly.
“Sounds very much like an accusation to me.”
I glare back at him. Maybe it is. And maybe I don’t care if it gets me into trouble. Trouble seems to have followed me around from the day I arrived at this academy.
“Don’t be stupid, Miss Storm. And make sure you’re outside my classroom at 7 o’clock tonight.”
“Why?”
“For your detention, of course. Did you really think you could miss my class and go unpunished? Now get to your next lesson.”
I don’t want to leave, but with him standing there glaring at me, I don’t really have a choice. I could dig my heels in and refuse to go, but he’s much bigger than me and I wouldn’t put it past him to drag me there.
I set off, the bookshelves seeming to part and create a pathway for me this time.
“Miss Storm,” he says, “leave the book here.”
“But I–”
“Books cannot be removed from the library.”
I want to argue that that makes it a pretty shitty library – even the public library back in Slate Quarter lets you borrow books – but I’m really done talking with him. I place the book down on the nearest shelf and storm out of the library, finding the door in a matter of minutes.
I don’t care what he says. I know I’m right. Something happened to my sister. The story they told us was a lie.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Briony
I’m half tempted to wait around a corner and then creep back into the library and track down that book. The more I think about it, the stranger it seems that it took so long to find the right place in the library and was quick to find my way out. As if the library itself wanted to stop me in the first place and then throw me out in the second. That can’t be right, though. My mind must be playing tricks on me. I was just frustrated and not concentrating properly on my way in.
However, though I want to go back, I have a funny feeling Professor Tudor will be waiting for me there again, ready to turf me out if I try. I’m going to have to be clever about sneaking back in – some time I know he’ll be distracted – although who knows when that will be.
Do teachers have lives? It’s not like the academy is situated near a town or any other form of entertainment. There’s the moor, the forest and the distant train station – probably not so bad if you enjoy train spotting, which I doubt very much Fox Tudor does. No, he probably enjoys torturing students slowlyand cruelly down in his dungeon to pass the time. Yep, I’m really looking forward to my detention.
Admitting temporary defeat, I set off towards my room to change into my tracksuit for the next lesson. Detention with Professor Tudor will be bad enough, I imagine it will be unbearable with the gruesome twosome. Halfway there my day gets even better when my period comes on and I’m forced to dash up the stairs as fast as I can.
Once I’ve cleaned myself up, taken some painkillers for the cramps I know will be incoming anytime soon, and changed, I hurry down to the field. I’m hungry and, with my period too, feeling pretty faint.
“Are you okay?” Fly asks, as I sidle up to him in the line along the field, Clare hovering at his other side.
“Yeah, why?”