Standing at the top of the steps leading to the front door, Sylvain watched her incredulously. She could see his tension in the way he held his shoulders and the set of his sharply defined jaw.
For one bittersweet moment she let herself wish he would sweep her up and take her away from this moment. But no one could do that.
Holding her gaze, Sylvain held out his hands questioningly.
Colour rushed to Allie’s cheeks and she dropped her eyes. Because what was there to say?
When she glanced up again he was gone.
Inside, she was met by a furious-looking Isabelle who didn’t say a word to her. As she led the way to her office, Allie couldn’t take her eyes off the stiff, angry line of her back. Her heart sank with every step.
Without saying where she was going, the headmistress left her there, in the care of one of Raj’s guards, who stood silently in front of the door, his arms crossed.
She didn’t see where they took Mark.
Her nerves on edge, Allie looked around the familiar room as she waited for Isabelle to return. Low wooden cabinets lined one wall, while Isabelle’s large desk took up much of the remaining space – her eyes darted to the elegant leather blotter where she’d found the mobile phone yesterday. It was empty now.
Isabelle would never make that mistake again.
Before she could think about that further, though, Isabelle returned accompanied by Night School instructor Jerry Cole. The two looked solemn and tense as they asked the guard to leave them alone.
Isabelle sat at her desk; Jerry perched on a filing cabinet. Isabelle was white with anger.
Jerry spoke first, his voice stern. ‘Allie, you are in a tremendous amount of trouble. We need to know exactly what happened, and you will make things better for yourself if you answer our questions.’
Her stomach roiling, Allie nodded to show she understood. ‘I just… could I have something to drink? I’m really thirsty.’
Silently Isabelle opened the small refrigerator she kept in one corner and handed her a bottle of water.
Allie didn’t think anything had ever tasted as good as that water.
Their questions were straightforward. How had she got Isabelle’s phone? How had she escaped? How had she got into town? Had anyone helped her?
She tried to answer as clearly as she could – hoping that would get her out of there quicker – but they just kept asking more questions.
When she told them what happened at the police station, Isabelle and Jerry exchanged a dark look.
‘I’ll take care of it, Isabelle,’ Jerry said placatingly. But Isabelle didn’t appear mollified.
‘Find out who they are,’ she said. ‘I want to take care of it myself.’
Still the questions continued. The pain in Allie’s head had worsened, and she was hungry and tired. Her temper grew short.
‘I wish you’d worked this hard to find out who’s helping Nathaniel,’ she snapped.
Jerry glowered at her. ‘How do you know Mark doesn’t work for Nathaniel?’
‘You must be joking.’ Allie scoffed, the very idea making her laugh. That was a mistake.
‘Do you think this is funny?’ He nearly shouted the question.
Before Allie could reply, Isabelle held up her hand. ‘That’s enough. Both of you.’
Allie’s shoulders slumped. She was so tired. The pounding in her temples was growing into a kind of banging. She couldn’t think straight any more.
Isabelle turned back to face Allie. For the first time today, she didn’t look angry. She looked sad. ‘Just answer this one last question, Allie: what did you tell Mark about Cimmeria?’
Allie’s mind unspooled hazy drunken memories of rambling about Night School and Carter. Nathaniel and Isabelle. Security and threats. Jo.
But she didn’t blink. ‘Nothing.’
‘You expect us to believe you ran away from school and spent the night with that boy, but told him nothing?’ Scepticism was clear in Jerry’s voice.
Allie whirled to face him, her anger spilling over. ‘I didn’t run away with Mark to tell him all your amazing secrets. I ran away because I didn’t want to be here any more. Because someone here helped Nathaniel kill Jo and you haven’t done one thing to find him. I’m not safe here. No one is. And I just…’ She pressed her fingertips against her burning eyelids. ‘I wanted to be with my friend.’
‘You may yet get the chance to do that permanently,’ Jerry muttered.
From beneath her hands she shot him an irritated look. ‘If you want to throw me out so badly, why’d you bother bringing me back? You should bloody thank me —’
‘Language.’ Isabelle’s tone was sharp. ‘I will not have you swear at a teacher. All the rules of civilisation have not been cancelled simply because you are having a bad day, Allie.’ Turning, she said, ‘Jerry, if you don’t mind I’d like a few minutes alone with Allie. Could you please leave us?’
When he’d gone, the headmistress leaned back against the door, her shoulders drooping, staring at the floor. She looked uncharacteristically vulnerable and an unwanted bitter rush of guilt stung Allie’s heart.