“What is with you boys and your cryptic messages?” Fussing with the hem of my skirt, I glance at him.
This is truly the first time we’ve spoken directly to each other. He’s quiet, always fading into the shadow of the other three. There’s something about him though that makes me believe he’s the most lethal of them.
He never answers me. He sits through the ceremony in silence and never claps after any of the presentations. In fact, none of them do. They sit with their backs straight like they can’t be bothered with any of the mundane academy traditions.
Dean Eberstark stands behind the podium introducing the next recipient. He goes through a list of this man’s accomplishments. I’m impressed by how highly our dean speaks of this guy.
“Please give a warm welcome to Henry Lexington.”
Marek stiffens in his seat. I flick my attention to him and see his eyes wide. For the first time, I think I’m seeing what it means for Marek to be caught off guard.
“Thank you, Dean Eberstark,” Henry says into the mic. His eyes shift to Marek, and he winks. It’s not playful or friendly. It’s harsh, sending a message to anyone who is willing to pay close enough attention. No one does, though. No one except me.
“Fuck,” Marek mumbles and fidgets.
I run my finger over his hand, hidden under the arm rest, so no one can see. He twists his head sharply towards me and dips his stare to where I’ve connected us. His pinky is all he gives me, running it along mine. His breaths even out, no longer beating at his chest, and once they are back to normal, he pulls his hand away from mine.
Henry Lexington boasts of everything he’s done since leaving Glass Heart Academy. He takes a few minutes to speak of his pride of handing down the tradition to his godson, never using Marek’s name, keeping his hidden legacy safe from anyone who is willing to use it against Marek.
Henry receives loud applause from the audience. As he finishes, I catch sight of Mr. and Mrs. Matthews entering the stage. Dean Eberstark says a lot of nice things about Georgina, highlighting her academic and social standing on campus. Georgina had been loved by all who she allowed in, always willing to give a hand when needed. When I die, I hope someone can say the same about me.
“She is a girl who will be missed,” he says, offering the microphone to Mrs. Matthews.
“We never expected to lose our daughter at such a young age. She was a light in our life, a beacon of hope, and I hope that every time you pass the lantern outside of this building, you’ll think of her and the legacy she is leaving behind.” Mrs. Matthews dries her tears. “If it wasn’t for these four sitting in this front row, I’m not sure if we’d have the closure every family deserves.”
At that, the heat of their stares hit me. Reed’s disappearance is no secret. It was a running story on the news for weeks. They know what we were left with, and what we are desperate for, like any family would be. Closure. The thing about closure is it’s hard to find without a physical body to bury. Seeing her with my own eyes wouldn’t make things easier, but anything has to be easier than my sense of hope dying a little more each day. Laying her to rest would mean I can quit looking for her around every corner.
“Palmer, would you mind saying a few words?” she asks.
Earlier this week, she had called me as I was walking into chemistry, to see if I would talk at the part of the ceremony dedicated to Georgina. I didn’t feel comfortable telling her no. I don’t feel comfortable speaking, either. I took the lesser of two evils and agreed.
I stand, leaving my purse on the seat. Marek reaches out like he wants to say something, but quickly sits back. His chin drops to his chest and stays as I begin my short speech.
The mic squeals at my final words, and I step back from the podium, ready to get out of here.
Only my voice continues pouring through the auditorium speakers. I look around and see everyone sitting up a little straighter.
“Everyone loves Reed. She’s the pride and joy of Glass Heart Academy, but me, I’m a nobody.” My lips don’t move, and yet I hear my voice. “Maybe now that she’s gone, I can finally get the recognition I deserve.”
I glare at Marek, but he’s not brave enough to look at me. The mic shakes in my hand. As soon as I hear Marek’s voice, tears well up, and I brush them away.
“Baby, you’re nothing like your sister.” He’s right about that. “Admit it, you were a little bit relieved when you found out about her going missing?”
Dixon grins like he couldn’t be prouder of himself. Byron has the decency to seem surprised, saving face in front of the other staff members, of course. Breaker is whispering something to Delaney, forcing her close as she tries to push him away.
“Of course, I was. Reed was an entitled bitch. Whoever killed her did us all a favor.”
The microphone slips from my hand and hits the wood planks on the stage. It cackles and pops from the impact. I hustle down the steps and come face-to-face with the boys. Marek keeps his head down, unlike the others, and Dixon hands me my purse.
Byron steps in front of me, blocking my exit. His hands clasp my biceps, keeping me from leaving. “It should have been you. Not her.”
I finally break away from his grasp and walk up the aisle to storm out of the auditorium. My classmates offer me a slow clap for a performance that wasn’t truly mine. A few spew obscenities at me as I pass. I’d agree with their nasty names if it had actually been me on the recording and not some twisted prank.
Out on the front lawn, I lift my head towards the sky, praying to be struck down by lightning in the middle of a sunny day. The odds are stacked against me, much like they are to survive this.
“Palmer Weston.” My mother’s voice breaks me free from the fog that’s overtaken my thoughts. “Get over here right now. You have some explaining to do.”
I see her and my father crossing the path to me. Not once did they tell me they would be at the ceremony today. They’re both alumni, meeting each other freshman year and living out some rich kid fantasy of marrying your high school sweetheart.
“Mom, that wasn’t me,” I explain, holding up my hands, begging them to understand.
She reaches up and connects her flat palm across my cheek. “You are a disgrace. You want to know why your sister was so beloved? It was because she was smart and beautiful and everything you will never be.” Her hand raises again to punish my face for what she believes I’ve done wrong.
My father grips her wrist, stopping her assault. “Karen, let’s go. It’s not worth it.”
What he means is I’m not worth it.
Hand in hand, they walk away from me. Abandoned and in shock, I punch the closest thing I can. My knuckles split and bleed on the brick sign.
Doors slam behind me, and I turn to find a sea of angry glares directed at me. Marek leads the pack, with Byron, Dixon, and Breaker flanking him. They have a new darkness in their eyes, more so than before. Perhaps I haven’t wanted to see it. Maybe Reed’s memory has blinded me, making it so I’m only willing to accept what she’d told me about them.
The corner of Marek’s lips lifts as he turns away from me, proving what I already know.
Near the corner of the building, Julia Webb is arguing about something with Declan Dumas. When she tries to leave, his hand wraps around her bicep, pulling her in close. She winces under his strength. What could Declan have to do with a fourteen-year-old girl? They disappear into the building, forcing my attention to the crowd outside.