Chapter 5

Bayla

After I had packed my relatively small stock of laundry into the much too large closet, I folded the suitcase shut and looked at the other suitcase. Unfortunately, I didn't have a bookshelf in this room. I guess I would have to ask Mum if I could get one because books definitely didn't belong on the floor. However, they had to put up with just that space until then.

One by one, I unpacked each book and stacked them next to the window. A place where I would spend a lot of time with my Canterbury Classics over the next few days, because what else could I do in a small town that was completely unfamiliar to me?

After I finished stacking books, I packed both suitcases into the remaining free part of the closet, wondering for the third time today who it had once belonged to.

When I left, I would pack them in the trunk, because there was no question of this Julian helping us again. Mum and I would manage on our own. Just as always.

A glance at my alarm clock told me that it was time for dinner. Already for half an hour, it smelled of delicious food in the house, and my stomach growled insatiably. I hadn't eaten in what felt like forever , even though it had only been six hours since I had devoured a damn good cheese sandwich. My mouth watered at the thought.

On my way out, I picked up my toiletry bag, which I still had to take to the bathroom.

My eyes fell on the last two doors in the hallway that I didn't know. One of them had to lead to a bathroom. I decided on the one next to my room and took a step toward it to push down the handle. Carefully, I entered the darkened room and flicked on the light switch.

Of course , it wasn't the bathroom. Instead, I had landed in another bedroom.

In terms of floor plan, it looked exactly like mine, except it had more furniture, which was surprisingly filled with stuff. In the middle of the room, like mine, was a wooden bed. The sheets on it were covered by a midnight blue bedspread. There was a bedside table with picture frames, a desk, and lots of books lying all over the place that instantly caught my interest.

They seemed to be very old copies. In addition, there were ceiling-high bookshelves filled with more books and pictures on the walls.

I immediately felt at home in this room. Everything looked so friendly and inviting... Almost as if someone lived here.

Curious, I went further in and ran my finger over the spines of the books. A tingling sensation ran through my fingers, and I held my breath, savoring the moment.

I had no idea that Mum used to have such a soft spot for books in her student days. And also, for this kind of literature. Titles like Wuthering Heights or Bleak House graced the shelf. But it didn't just have authors like Charles Dickens or Emily Bront? lining the massive wooden panels of the shelf. Apparently, my mother had once found interest in the works of Jane Austen . A first edition of Pride and Prejudice lay on the nightstand to my left, and I recognized it immediately. A classic. I didn't even want to know how much these books were all worth here.

Intrigued, I reached for the copy next to it, The Secret History by Donna Tartt , and opened it. The pages were a bit yellowed, and I spotted brown coffee stains in the margins.

Whoever read this book had been a very careless coffee drinker. Mum didn't drink coffee, so it couldn't have been her.

I was surprised that my mother had never told me about her book collection, although she definitely knew about my love of literature, especially the classics.

I would take her up on it, preferably right now at dinner.

As I was about to put the book away again, a vintage yellowed letter fell out of the last pages of the book.

I examined the paper that had fallen to the floor.

For Alice was written in scrawly ink on the delicately decorated envelope.

Alice? Who was Alice?

Perhaps the previous renter? Or a former student who had found accommodation here? Or perhaps a pseudonym for my mother?

"Bay, darling! Dinner's ready. Are you coming down?" my mother's voice rang out from the kitchen.

"Yes! I'll be right down," I answered frantically, shoving the letter into my back pocket. For later. Even though it might not have been any of my business... I had found it in our house, and it was not officially addressed to my mother...so?

I reached for the handle to follow the tantalizing smell of good food, but then my eyes grazed a picture frame in the corner of the back bookshelf. Pictured were three young women with their arms draped over their shoulders.

I paused because I immediately recognized that the woman on the right was my mother. She must have been around twenty years old at the time the picture was taken. I had never seen her at that age, but the straight nose and fine jawline... Unmistakable.

I had to smile. As expected, no biker jacket.

Her golden blonde hair was a little longer, and she wore glasses. By now, she had acquired contact lenses. But wow , she looked damn pretty in this picture. And happy... So did the other two women.

In the middle was a young, pretty woman with brown shoulder-length waves and turquoise eyes. Her smiling mouth elicited gentle dimples. In general, you could tell she looked very attractive, with her heart-shaped pale face. Surely, she must have had as many admirers as Larissa.

On the left, another beautiful woman leaned against the shoulders of the woman in the middle. Her ash blonde hair was straight and long, and her eyes had to be very bright. Almost ice blue. Her pretty face looked doll-like.

A certain amazement grew in me at my mother's friendships. They must have had a beautiful youth. The smile in the picture spoke volumes.

I looked again at the light blonde woman. Somehow, her face seemed familiar. But I couldn't remember seeing her before.

"What are you doing here?"

I startled violently, dropping the picture. The glass shattered on the floor with a crash, and I backed away, perplexed.

My mother was standing in the doorway, looking at me with her eyes wide open. I had never seen this look on her face before.

I quickly bent down, but my pitiful attempt to clean up the mess I had made here was interrupted by my mother. She pulled me out of the room by the arm, her nails scraping my arm.

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to break anything... I..." I started helplessly as her reaction threw me off track. However, she didn't give me a second to explain myself.

"How did you get into this room?!" Her shaky voice sounded reproachful.

I couldn't interpret the emotion on her face, which I was usually pretty good at.

All I saw was anger.... and... fear?

"I... I was going to the bathroom, and I got lost," I brought out, still shocked.

"Of course... It was open. How could I have forgotten?" Mum whispered, talking to herself. She stared into the void. Her facial expression still seemed unchanged. Shocked.

"Mum...? I'm really sorry."

But my mother didn't seem to be listening. She turned to the door and put a key in the lock, which she turned. I heard a soft clack, twice.

"My toiletry bag is still in there."

"Go downstairs and start eating already. I'll catch up with you. I'll take care of the bag."

Her voice sounded different than usual.

What had I done wrong? Immediately I regretted ever having entered this room. Couldn't I have just turned back immediately and continued looking for the bathroom? I was an idiot and had to snoop around in some of my mother's private things, and now...

But her reaction... I had never seen her like that before.

So, I obeyed her wordlessly, hoping not to do anything else wrong, and silently made my way down the stairs.

Good job, Bayla. Really great job.

In front of me was a plate of spaghetti. I actually loved this dish, but today, I couldn't get a bite down. The dull feeling of guilt in my stomach area had driven away the hunger pangs.

Mum was sitting across from me. Her hair was disheveled again, and her eyes were red. She had been crying... And it was my fault .

She hadn't spoken a word to me since the incident a few minutes ago.

I felt bad and wanted to make up for it somehow. And I didn't even know exactly what I had done wrong.

Reluctantly, I lifted the fork that was next to my plate and took a bite. It tasted good, but I didn't want to force anything down my throat.

Carefully, I put the fork down again.

Maybe I should say something before the silence became awkward...

"I'm sorry." I hesitated. "Whatever I did, please don't be mad at me anymore."

Now, she stopped eating. In her look, I recognized something like regret.

She also paused with her fork and raised her head.

"Bay, you don't have to be sorry. You couldn't have known. I should have locked the door."

I was ashamed of myself for breaking the photo. Maybe it meant a lot to her and there was no copy. Or just the fact that I had touched it, gone through her old things.

I had intended to ask her if I could borrow some books from time to time, but now that was out of the question for me. Never again would I take a step into that room. Something like before should not happen again.

I gritted my teeth.

"You don't have to talk to me about it. I shouldn't have walked in. I should have kept looking for the bathroom instead."

Mum didn't answer me, but her expression softened a little.

"Can we go to that market together on Wednesday that you told me about?"

From the change of subject, I hoped to take her mind off things.

She started eating again.

"Yes, I'd love to." Her voice had softened. "I need something for the cake anyway."

I guess I had kind of blocked it out, but now I remembered that Friday was my birthday.

I bit my tongue.

Please not... I didn't like my birthday because I remembered all too well the days when I had celebrated it.

I was seven years old and had invited all my friends – at least, I was convinced at the time that they were my friends. No one came, and no one showed up for my ninth birthday either. Since then, I had stopped having parties.

In retrospect, it had turned out that all these kids had been at the party of my then best friend Olivia, who had always celebrated on the same day as me on purpose, but after finding out I simply didn't have the desire for any more parties.

"There's also a bookstore near the market. If you want..."

"Yes!" it escaped me, and I just managed to keep my delighted tone in check.

Ever since I was a little girl, I loved to spend time with books. It was something like my passion, from the very beginning, and I mostly lived in a wide variety of literary worlds, from classic literature to crime novels to fantasy novels, even if it had taken me a long time to get into the last category.

"And if you need anything else for university, let me know. Then I'll show you the stationery store."

By now, Mum was smiling again, and I was glad that the mood wasn't so glum anymore. And even though I didn't like it when she tried to make conversation to cover up something else, it was okay. For now.

"Oh, and tomorrow night, we'll have guests. I'll be cooking. Please be nice to the Bardots."

The look on her face told me she was serious. With that, I also knew immediately who the Bardots must be.

"You're inviting the neighbors? Both of them?"

I had no problem with the cop. He seemed like a nice man. But his son?

"All four of them."

I choked on a noodle and reached for the water glass.

"All four of them?"

Mum smiled. "Graham's mother, Rosalie, will be there, too."

"And who's number four?" I echoed, hoping there wasn't another annoyingly grinning one.

"Julian's sister. She's two years younger than you and a very kind girl."

Relieved, I expelled the pent-up air and brought the glass back to my lips.

"Please behave a little more tomorrow than you did at noon today. The Bardots are nice neighbors."

Behave?

I didn't have the very best manners; however, I wasn't a toddler anymore either.

"Don't worry about it. I'll just build a tower of potatoes and throw silverware around. The usual."

I grinned, earning a warning look from my mother.

"Lucky for you, there will be no potatoes, young lady!"

"What are you going to cook?"

I was hoping for steak and fries or noodle and cheese casserole. The mere thought of cheese made my mouth water. Especially if my Mum was cooking it...

No wonder my thoughts were all about food when I had only eaten one noodle so far and choked on it, too. My hunger had returned.

Mum just said with a wink, "Let me surprise you."

Dissatisfied, I snorted. She ignored it, aware of my pickiness.

I finished eating, then cleared my plate and Mum's. Afterward, I kissed my mother goodnight on the cheek, before I disappeared upstairs, exhausted from this first day, put on comfortable sleeping clothes and slipped under the covers, overcome by tiredness.

The lovely melody of a piano reached my ears and woke me up for good. A few seconds later, the back pain set in.

This bed was damn uncomfortable because the mattress was way too soft. One slid literally into a wide hollow. At some point, I had squeezed a pillow under my back. And that had been a huge mistake.

Now I was lying here, in the middle of a bed that didn't belong to me, living in a house that I hadn't known about until yesterday, and plagued by pain in places where I had never felt pain before.

Groaning, I straightened up and again perceived that soft sound.

I looked at my watch. It was only seven o'clock.

Who was listening to piano music at this hour?

I listened attentively to the soothing sounds. They came from outside.

During the night, I had left the window open so that fresh air could come in through the slit. Now, I regretted it, even if the melody was not bad at all. However, loud noises had kept me awake that night and as if that had not been enough, these were also replaced by loud annoying birds in the morning.

Of course, I had nothing against animals, not at all, even though I had already run over three, in my defense, unintentionally.

It was the familiar roar of the city that I was missing.

With a yawn, I rose from the edge of the bed.

I didn't feel that rested. However, despite everything, I had gotten more sleep than in the last two weeks, when I had had to prepare everything for university and the move. Then Dr. Copeland had called on short notice to inform my mother that she was next on the patient list. This doctor... I swear.

The soft music brought me back to reality.

Curious, I crept to the window to take a look outside and search for the source of the harmonious sound. The neighboring house was only about four meters away from ours.

I tried to see something, but the rising sun on the horizon behind the trees blinded me.

Protectively, I raised a hand in front of my face so that I could see through the window.

What I spotted was a guy in sweatpants, sitting at a grand piano... playing the piano. He had no top on, which allowed me to see his defined masculine upper body, and I immediately wondered if he wasn't freezing.

My gaze lost itself on the muscles over which the taut skin stretched, wandered over the traitorously broad shoulders down the arms where aesthetic veins stood out.

His fingers moved rapidly over the keys while he sat straight and stared in concentration at the notes that lay somewhat chaotically scattered on the grand piano.

I must have stared at him too long because he turned his head in my direction.

I winced.

It was none other than Julian Bardot.

Shit, shit, shit!

In shock, I yanked the curtain closed, tearing off at least one of the hooks and toppling the vase without flowers next to the window. Instantly, I felt the blush rise in my face.

Why did something so embarrassing always have to happen to me, of all people?

Hopefully, he was having the same difficulty recognizing me.

If I wasn't mistaken, this was his room. The bad thing was that it was directly across from mine. When I had the curtain open, he could look over at me without difficulty.

I stared at the curtain in shock.

He could have watched me from over there yesterday…

At the thought, goosebumps came over me, slowly spreading over my whole body.

Julian could prepare himself for something.

I pulled open the door to the hallway and made my way to the bathroom. In the process, I passed the room where I had dropped the picture yesterday. The mere memory made the unpleasant feelings come up again. I still wished I had never entered that room. If there were any way it could be undone, I would do it.

Once in the bathroom, I drew all the curtains. Even though the windows only faced our other neighbors and our own backyard, I couldn't deny that I felt discreetly watched since just now.

After showering, I returned to my room and put on some fresh clothes. In the background, I could still hear the soft melody, but I ignored it skillfully.

Just piano music, nothing special .

I went to the dresser where I had put my jeans last night and reached for them. Immediately, I felt something sharp.

What was in my jeans pocket?

Carefully, I pulled the item out.

It was the corner of the envelope.

My pulse rate quickened noticeably.

After my mother's reaction last night, my curiosity had faded, and now I felt like a traitor.

Yesterday, I hadn't had a chance to bring it back because the door had still been locked. Besides, I didn't want to risk being caught by Mum. I didn't want her to think that I was betraying her trust.

But I didn't want to read it anymore, either. I was even ashamed that I had taken someone else's belongings. What had gotten into me?

I decided to fight my curiosity and return it as soon as an opportunity arose.

Until then, I would have to hide the envelope somewhere. Somewhere in my room...

My eyes fell on the pile of books next to the window. I grabbed the first book I could find and put the letter inside. No one would find it here because who, except me, was interested in French philosophy?

More nervous than last night, I headed downstairs, where my Mum had already made breakfast. Radio music and a sweet scent came toward me and displaced the unpleasant feeling from just now.

When I saw what was waiting for me on the kitchen counter, my mouth watered. Pancakes with blueberries.

Mum always made me some when she wanted to apologize for something. It could only be about yesterday.

And there they were again, the feeling of guilt. Whatever line I had crossed, I felt bad. But I wasn't going to let on, so I sat down and put three pancakes on my plate.

"Good morning, darling." Mum smiled at me.

I didn't know where she got her cheerfulness, but I didn't want to ask either. She was in a good mood, and I didn't want to ruin that. Not again.

"Good morning, Blairville! This is Joe Bexley with the morning news." I glanced at the kitchen radio on the refrigerator. "Twenty-five-year-old Vanderwood student Anabelle Clayton is missing. Three days ago, she had been out in the inner city with her friends, who now report her missing. It is known that the student liked to go jogging in the woods behind Vanderwood, near Fogs Forest. The police department is not commenting further. However, a search party is being sent into the woods."

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and I looked at Mum, who was turning the last pancake in the pan with a grim expression.

"City authorities are warning people not to enter Fogs Forest. The DeLoughreys, who own the forest, also don't want to comment."

Those strange rich people again...

"Similar cases occurred already forty years ago. What do you think, Harriet? Could these missing persons cases have anything to do with those in the eighties?"

A woman's voice rang out, and Mum simply changed the news channel.

"Mum..." it escaped me in shock. "What happened in the eighties?"

She had been just a kid back then. Still, she had to know what Joe Bexley was talking about, or she wouldn't have turned off the radio.

"I don't like that radio station," she began, arranging the pancakes attractively. "The Bexleys spread too much gossip and poke around in private family matters that are none of their business."

Undecided whether to probe further or look it up on the internet later rather than further burden my mother, I broke the pancake into small pieces in front of me.

"But something else..." Mum continued. "Three guesses what I found in the mailbox today."

"What?" I asked in confusion.

I wouldn't be surprised if it were a letter from Larissa ending our friendship because she probably thought I wasn't answering her on purpose. This cursed network in this quarter of the town...

Instead of answering me, Mum hurriedly ran to the kitchen counter and grabbed a big white envelope, which she then excitedly waved in front of my face.

"Mum, I can't read what's written on it if you're going to shake it like that..."

"You've been accepted for the winter term! You're now a true Vanderwood student!"

Excitedly, she tore open the envelope, pulled out a sheet of paper, and placed it next to my plate of pancakes, just beside a blueberry blob.

I recognized the white crest with the two wolves, dagger, and wildflowers on the front of a dark green promotional brochure.

My nightmare had just come true.

It wasn't as if the hyperactive newscaster had just announced that students were disappearing into the woods behind this university.

"I was wondering why we didn't get any mail, but this one was in the mailbox all along." Mum wiggled the envelope in her hand enthusiastically. "In Blairville...interesting. I was afraid it would end up in Sacramento."

I would have preferred it there.

Mum didn't even notice that my enthusiasm was in moderation as she fished around among the brochures as if she, not I, had been approved to go there.

It had never been my goal to study at Vanderwood. I had planned, if I really got accepted, to study only half the year, but my mum expected me to stay at the university for the full three years. Which I wouldn't. My plan to go back to Sacramento with Mum as soon as she was well again and to San Francisco with Larissa was still firm.

The pungent smell of burning was in my nose.

Mum seemed to smell it, too, because she turned and rushed to the stove.

"No, no, no!" Frantically, my Mum pulled the pan off the stove, where a few flames were blazing. Apparently, a pancake had caught fire.

I jumped up and went to grab the dish towel, but by the time I turned to Mum, the fire was gone. A few puffs of smoke drifted through the main floor.

"How did you...?" I started, but the smoke alarm interrupted me.

The beeping was so loud that I had to cover my ears.

My mother, who seemed to be enduring it all, pulled one of the wooden chairs out of the dining area and stood on it to get to the smoke detector. In the next instant, the ear-splitting noise died down, and I was able to take my hands away from my ears again.

"My little sensitive baby. Do you want me to get you some earplugs? This one just goes off again and again, even if there is no fire." How could she pretend it hadn't just burned? "So don't get scared if it goes on in the night."

Laughing, Mum put the chair back.

I still had the beeping in my ear.

Couldn't she have warned me earlier that the thing was so incredibly loud? And if it woke me up even once, I would personally kick it off the ceiling.

While Mum cleaned up the mess in the kitchen, I sat back at the table to unwillingly read through Vanderwood's letter.

Dear Miss Adams,

We are hereby pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to our Department of Linguistics for the winter semester and welcome you to the Vanderwood University.

We expect to see you on our campus on September 5 th . There, you will be provided with a room that you will share with the following students.

Julie Blair

Emely Copeland

Ruby Sanders

Mode of study: Standard Double Bachelor

Major: Literary Studies (Bachelor of Arts) with 120 credits

Minor: Philosophy (Bachelor of Arts) with 60 credits

Instructors: Basic English (Prof. Alarik Copeland), American Studies: Literature (Prof. Isabella Marten), Literary History (Dr. Prof. Gina George), Ethics (Prof. Alarik Copeland).

If we have made a mistake in the assignment of seminars and lectures, please appear in our Registrar's Office on September 5 th .

You will find your book list and student card, which grants you free access to our library as well as the canteen and sports facilities, in the envelope.

We wish you a successful start to your first semester at Vanderwood University.

Sincerely Regards,

Your Vanderwood University Selection Committee

Wait a minute . I took another look at the list of girls I would be sleeping under the same roof with for an entire six months starting next week. Then, I looked through the list of professors.

Emely Copeland...

"Mum?"

"Yes?"

"Does your doctor, Dr. Copeland, happen to have a daughter and work as a professor at Vanderwood?"

The coincidence made me laugh.

"Yes, quite possibly." It came hesitantly from my mother. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I'll be sharing a room with a girl named Emely Copeland, and one of my professors' last names is Copeland."

Abruptly, Mum let the pan she had just been scrubbing so vigorously slide into the sink. She came over to me and literally snatched the letter out of my hand. Her expression darkened.

"What is it?" I asked cautiously.

She rubbed her forehead. Then she walked back to the sink and resumed her work as if nothing had happened.

"I want you to stay away from the Copelands as much as you can," she replied to me hesitantly. "Your best bet is to switch courses."

Dumbfounded, I looked at her.

What was wrong with her?

"Why? One of them is your doctor..."

When I didn't get an immediate answer, I looked over at her.

Her whole body had tensed, and she was looking intently out the window as if she was thinking carefully about what to say next.

It had become so quiet in the house that you could have heard a feather fall to the floor.

"Mum..." I said, which snapped my mother out of her stupor.

"The professor and the doctor are related."

"Okay, and why should I stay away from them?"

Mum seemed to realize that I had become suspicious. But what else could I be when she had been acting so strangely since we arrived, leaving me with so many unanswered questions?

"I remember the Copelands from my time here. They were always doing very risky things. You know...illegal things."

Mum avoided my gaze.

"Illegal things?"

Her words had surprised me. Then why was she letting a doctor from that family treat her? Was she serious about this? How reputable were these people?

"You know... drugs, wild parties, and street racing."

Still, she was unable to look at me.

"Street racing?" I asked, amused. I couldn't suppress a laugh.

Mum threw the wipe at me but narrowly missed.

"That's not funny, young lady! Things like that can turn out dangerously," she said with a played strict tone as if she was speaking from experience.

I just didn't believe that a university professor found time for parties or hard drugs these days, let alone any street racing.

Mum got serious again.

"Just be careful and don't get involved in anything there that you wouldn't normally do, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," I returned, playfully annoyed.

I would heed her advice. But these people couldn't be that bad, could they? Because even if they had done a lot of forbidden things, according to Mum, they had become something . Doctor, professor? That rather screamed of a rich family with a lot of reputation in the city, which they surely owed to their status as a founding family, among other things.

I put the letter back with the other brochures and notes. No more Vanderwood crap for today!

"Did your lady friend ever get back to you?" Mum asked pointedly, painfully reminding me of all I had to leave behind.

I rolled my eyes in annoyance.

"She's got a name, too..."

My mother didn't like Larissa at all. Maybe it was because of that one time with the drugs when I'd had to go to the emergency room for my lost pills, and Larissa had been all drugged up. I understood that it had been a really lousy action. But the fact that I had fallen over was not because of Larissa. It was only because of me. But exactly this fact made Mum put Larissa in a bad light whenever possible. Like now.

And the fact that she hadn't contacted me wasn't due to her, but to this lousy signal in this part of town.

"No, but she promised to call me on Friday night."

"For your birthday. I'm surprised she even remembered it," Mum joked.

I didn't elaborate on her teasing.

Larissa wasn't stupid. She was just trying her hand at a lot of weird things at the moment, always trying to get me involved. But only because she thought I wouldn't have had fun with her otherwise. That wasn't true, of course. Larissa was easy-going and funny, and everyone who knew her knew that where Larissa was, something was going on. And I missed her incredibly. Of all the days, she couldn't be there for my birthday.

I took the flyers from the university along with the envelope and headed for the stairs.

"I'm going to have to do some more prep work for the university."

Unfortunately.

"Don't forget dinner tonight!" Mum called after me.

"I won't," I called back, annoyed, as I climbed the stairs.

I would have preferred to stay in my room for the rest of the day, because the last person I wanted to see today was Julian.