She nodded slowly.
“Good. Now, do as I say, and avoid who I tell you to. Unless you want your own allegiance called into question more than it already has been.”
Her mouth fell open. “Who . . . ?”
“Who hasn’t?” I raised an eyebrow. “They all worry they can’t trust you.”
“They can,” she sputtered.
“Normally I consider my judgment sound, but I must say I’m having second thoughts about bringing you into the IC. You’re more loyal to these side friendships than to me.”
“That’s not true.”
I toyed with the scarf. “If you want to take Gordon’s place at my side, I must be confident of your devotion.”
She jerked her head, undoubtedly surprised to hear me speak so baldly of the staff hierarchy. She shouldn’t have been. Honesty at all costs was my policy.
“What can I do?” she asked mousily. Was there anything worse in a woman than meekness? “To prove my devotion?”
I considered the question for an inordinate amount of time, debating whether she was up for the challenge. Perhaps it was too soon.
She rubbed her hands on her jeans, waiting.
“I think it’s time you took your q2.”
She went completely still. “It’s only been a month or so since my q1.”
“Are you saying you’re not ready? Would you prefer I give this opportunity to one of your peers?”
“No. I’m ready. I’ll do whatever you think.”
I sank next to her on the couch and laced my fingers through hers.
“That’s my girl.”
36
Kit
DECEMBER 2019
ALL THIS TIME I’d been trying to figure out whether it was April or Georgina who betrayed me.
Neither had.
Since Teacher had told me about the cameras, I’d begun searching the island for them. They were everywhere. In our guesthouses they resembled smoke detectors. In the classrooms and cafeteria they were disguised within photo frames. They were even nestled in the hedge foliage. Wherever we went we were watched: around the pool, inside the shed, by the staff doors. I was sure all of it had been Gordon’s doing. I’d figured out his role here: head of security. His handiwork was how she knew everything. She wasn’t reading our minds.
She was watching us.
The abandoned inside jokes, the lost laughs, the late-night discussions—I’d thrown away my friendships with April and Georgina over nothing.
Anger stirred my gut as I paced the second-floor corridor of Teacher’s house a few minutes before midnight. Just because I didn’t see any cameras didn’t mean they weren’t there. On the wall was an oil painting inspired by Munch—a bald woman clutched the sides of her head, face melting, mouth frozen in a shriek. The painting was disturbing enough on its own, made worse by the fact there were six copies of it, three on each side of the hallway. Every time you had a one-on-one with Teacher, you had to walk past the sextuplets with their haunting eyes. Maybe they were a reminder to face our fears—or what would happen if we didn’t.
* * *
? ? ?
I REACHED FOR my own bald head, still not used to it. Teacher had said this was one more way to sever our connections to the past. If I had no hair I couldn’t pull it out. Sometimes I missed the warmth on my neck or the messy bun piled atop my head. I missed matching my hair to my mood. I missed feeling pretty. Plenty of women with buzzed hair were gorgeous, but I was no Natalie Portman. I didn’t need a mirror to confirm the cut was bad for me. I just knew.
Pretty is frivolous, I chided myself. A fear of rejection.
I was waiting to be summoned into a spare bedroom that Sofia used to treat ailing guests. An exam table with leg stirrups stood in the center, surrounded by three rolling cabinets packed with medical supplies. In the corner were crutches that had never been used. Teacher kept the medicines in a locked cabinet in her office. No one could say Wisewood was unprepared in case of an emergency.
I pressed my ear to the door, heard shuffling and hushed tones, but nothing that would give me any clues. I wished Teacher would tell us ahead of time what our quests were; not knowing bred anxiety. Probably this was a pre-quest test. We had to be unafraid before the q’s and during them.
A quiet knock at the door made me jump.
“Kit,” a voice said. “Knock back when you’re ready.”
I stood tall and thumped. On the other side was Sofia, buzzing with excitement. Behind her the room was dim, lit by a handful of candles. I stepped inside.
They had moved the exam table to the front of the room. Pillows covered the rest of the floor: two neat rows of three. On each pillow kneeled an IC member: Gordon, Ruth, and Debbie in the first row; Sanderson, Raeanne, and Jeremiah in the second.