14. Tripped Up

14

" H as anything come from that conversation you overheard?" Jolene hedged. As we were close to Halloween, she was donning a bright orange sweater featuring white ghost appliques with beady little eyes (literally) sewn to both the front and back.

"No." I shook my head.

"And you're certain you don't know who Claire was speaking with?" She eyed me, definitely suspecting I knew more than I was letting on. "Because if you do, you should report them."

"I can't do anything…yet," I told her. "I can't go around leveling accusations without more information or any evidence to back up my claim. I still don't know what they were even talking about."

"I'm not sure if you need evidence. Let the headmistress dig into it," she disagreed with my assessment.

But she hadn't been there. She hadn't heard what I had. I was still certain it wasn't any kind of romantic relationship—I would have reported Chance if I suspected it was. That was crossing a line no teacher should ever come close to. Still I worried about the "danger" Chance referenced. I thought maybe if I could get closer to him, maybe I could convince him to tell me, or I'd have more information to figure things out for myself.

Things had been decidedly more cordial between us since he'd extended an olive branch over the weekend, but I was more suspicious of him than ever. I just didn't know what or why he was hiding things. Basically, I had nothing.

"What happens if you never find any evidence?" she posed. "You're just going to let her get away with doing whatever shady stuff she's up to?"

I huffed. "You know it's not that easy. The wrong kind of accusation could ruin her future."

She let my words sink in before responding, "Who cares? They're all rich. They'll just throw money at it to make it go away." I couldn't miss the simmering fury behind her words. She'd worked at Montgomery for just over twenty years and hadn't come from money either. We had bonded over similar backgrounds and being jaded by the wealth that was flaunted around us.

"Jolene, it's about integrity." I shook my head.

I wished I hadn't told her.

She clicked her tongue in disagreement.

"If I find anything, I will turn her in. I'll do the right thing."

"Turn who in, Miss Price?" Headmaster Winston had materialized in the hallway behind Jolene's desk.

I paled, mentally scrambling for a decent lie. "A student turned in an essay that seemed familiar."

"Oh?" He raised a bushy eyebrow and pursed his lips simultaneously.

"I don't believe the student would cheat, and I have to go through my records from last year." The lies continued to unravel before me.

"See that you do; we don't tolerate cheating of any kind at Montgomery Prep," he confirmed.

His gaze was wary and I thought he still suspected he was missing the truth of our conversation.

"Yes, Headmaster." I nodded. "I don't want to jeopardize the student's academic future if the similarities are merely coincidental." I eyed Jolene as I spoke.

A scowl formed on her face.

"Good." The headmaster seemed to be appeased. "I appreciate your thoroughness and caution with such a delicate matter."

I blinked and he was already down the hall, closing his office door.

I pointed my finger at Jolene. "Not a word of this to anyone. Not even your cats."

She sighed in defeat.

I was up in the lounge, just after dinner, finishing grading the last of the midterm tests later that evening, when I heard the sirens off in the distance. I knew immediately they could only be for someone at Montgomery because the campus was so far removed from the closest town and residential homes that I would have never heard them otherwise.

Scrambling down the trapdoor ladder, I threw on a coat and shoes and raced out into the hall. Chance almost ran right into me, exiting his apartment the same moment I passed his door.

"What's going on?" he asked in a rush, hurriedly following me down the stairs.

"I don't know, but it can't be good."

A crowd had gathered in front of the main building, consisting of both students and staff. The headmaster was instructing the dorm monitors to escort the students back to their building in one breath and telling the staff to go back to their rooms with the next.

I spotted Jolene, her bright orange sweater making her stand out in the crowd. Her arms were gathered tightly around her waist, as if she was self-soothing.

"Jolene?" I called out to her when I was closer.

She turned, her face red and blotchy from crying. Smears of red blood marred the previously white ghosts on the front side of her sweater.

"What happened!?" I wanted to hug her, but was wary of the blood, so instead I put a reassuring arm around her shoulders.

She glanced up at Chance, who had followed me. Her gaze narrowed before she turned her attention back to me. "A student fell down the stairs to the admin offices. It was horrible, there was blood everywhere."

"You saw it happen?" I began gently combing my fingers through her hair, trying to comfort her.

She nodded, sniffling.

"Who was it?" Chance asked softly.

Jolene looked at Chance, studying him for a brief moment, then back to me when she replied, "Claire DeLongpre."

My jaw went slack at the revelation.

"You're sure?" I breathed.

"Yeah I'm sure!" Jolene shouted, then fell into another fit of sobs, perhaps disturbed by her own outburst.

"It's going to be okay." I rubbed circles on her back as she cried.

I looked up at Chance, who had gone deathly still and pale.

His shocked blue-grey eyes met mine. He looked devastated.

Claire had her whole life ahead of her. Could it really have been so cruelly snuffed out before she'd had the chance to reach any kind of potential?

As I soothed Jolene, I watched my hand move of its own volition to reach for Chance, lacing my fingers through his, trying to offer him some sort of comfort.

We stood there for a while and watched as the paramedics entered the building with an empty gurney and returned a while later with a closed body bag supported on the frame. I stayed with Jolene until the police found her and asked to speak with her to get her account.

Security cameras were sparse at Montgomery, only present in common areas, so I wasn't sure what help they could be in seeing what had happened.

Slowly most of the staff drifted away, leaving only Chance and me standing on the lawn. I'd reluctantly released his hand at some point, not wanting anyone to see it. A police officer came by and politely asked us to leave after a while, and when I tried to say I was waiting for Jolene, he let me know she would be escorted home when they were finished talking to her.

"She'll be okay," Chance told me as we walked back to the carriage house.

But he didn't know. He didn't know Jolene. She could be so sensitive. I knew she was hurting.

He was quiet otherwise, still quite shaken. I wanted to tell him I knew he had a connection to Claire, but I couldn't find the courage in that moment. It seemed so callous.

He paused in front of his door, and I can't say what compelled me to do so, but I embraced him. He sunk into my hold, pulling me close, needing the comfort. I could have sworn I heard him say, "It's my fault," but his voice was muffled by my hair.

I pulled back from him, wiping an errant tear that had fallen down his cheek. "You're going to be okay," I told him.

He swallowed, then opened his mouth to speak, but he shook his head, closing it only a second later, as if he'd thought better of saying whatever he had been going to.

"I'm here, if you want to talk," I offered, sensing that he was on the verge of revealing something.

He nodded.

I moved to step away, and was surprised when he stood in the doorway watching me as I made my way to my own room. I remembered what he had said to me the first night we'd met as he departed. "I want to make sure you're safe inside your room." He had watched me the same way then.

And sure enough, when I closed my door, I heard his click shut a moment later.

Exhausted, I stripped out of my clothes and collapsed into bed. As I fell into a fitful sleep, I kept replaying his whispered confession in my mind.

"It's my fault."

And I realized with a creeping dread that Chance didn't think Claire's death had been an accident.