‘What happens now?’ Allie looked down at her bloodstained hands. ‘Should we call the police…?’
‘Of course not.’ The headmistress cut her off, her expression indicating the suggestion was absurd. ‘His body will be… taken care of.’ She leaned forward to catch Allie’s gaze. ‘No one will ever know what happened. It’s all been arranged. Please don’t worry about that.’
It didn’t make Allie feel any better to know she’d never face justice. Because that also meant no judge would ever hear her side and exonerate her for what she’d done. It would always sit on her conscience – a horrible secret she could never share with anyone.
She didn’t feel guilty, exactly. On some level she could completely vindicate her actions – self-defence, protecting Zoe – but that didn’t make Gabe any less dead.
I’ve killed a human being. Even though it had just happened, the fact was impossible to fathom. How would she feel in a year? A decade?
By then she probably wouldn’t believe it herself.
Her neck was stiff from the cut and the bandages. She couldn’t turn her head without burning pain. Whatever the nurse had given her was making it hurt less, but it was also making her feel fuzzy. The edges had begun to blur.
Isabelle kept talking, explaining what the teachers were doing. The guards. But Allie found it hard to focus. Her gaze wandered, taking in the teachers, their faces creased with worry, and the guards. She wanted to ask something, but she couldn’t seem to form the question.
She felt warm all of a sudden, and very tired. Her eyelids had begun to droop.
What did that nurse give me?
‘I can’t…’ She tried to tell Isabelle what was happening, but the words were slurred.
‘You need to rest.’ Through a tired haze, Allie saw Isabelle motion to two guards. One was a woman, her hair in a long, blonde braid that hung down her back like rope. Allie thought she knew her from somewhere.
‘Take her upstairs,’ the headmistress instructed. ‘The nurse gave her a tranquiliser and I don’t think she should walk. I’ll come with you to clean her up.’
A tranquiliser?
‘Up you get.’ The male guard put his arm under her shoulders and gently lifted her to her feet. But her knees felt oddly unstable; soft as custard.
She sank slowly towards the floor.
‘Oopsy daisy.’ He swept her up in one smooth move – one arm beneath her knees, and another behind her back.
She blinked at him blearily. Like the woman, he looked familiar. Pale hair and kind eyes. But her brain wouldn’t work. Every thought seemed like such hard work.
It was easier to close her eyes.
‘It’s time to go sleepybye…’ he said heading towards the door. And the words floated over her head like birds.
Allie woke in her own bed. The shutter had been closed over the arched window, but bright daylight bled through the cracks around it.
She needed to know what time it was, how much time Carter had left, but when she turned her head to look at the clock the wound on her neck stung like fire and she groaned, rolling back.
It all came rushing back. Zoe. Gabe.
It was like waking into a nightmare.
With effort she managed to sit up, and turn her body, holding her neck stiff.
Befuddled, she looked down at her clothes. She was in her pyjamas – the blood was gone from her hands. Someone – Isabelle she guessed – had cleaned her up and changed her clothing, which was unpleasant to think about. But she had no memory of it at all.
Whatever the nurse had given her had knocked her out cold.
Every movement hurt, but she put her feet on the floor and stood slowly, her breath hissing between her teeth.
She moved slowly, gathering her shower things, and then headed down the hallway. In the empty bathroom, she showered carefully, struggling to keep the bandage dry and failing, generally.
Afterwards, she brushed her teeth, studying herself in the mirror. Her grey eyes were sober. Aside from the bandage on her neck, the night had left no visible marks.
A stranger would never know she’d killed a man.
After hurriedly dressing, she made her way downstairs. The school looked exactly the same – elegant high ceilings and polished wood, marble statues and crystal chandeliers. Everything just where it should be.
But with each step Allie was conscious that she had changed. She felt different. As if she’d aged ten years overnight.
No one ever deserved to die more than Gabe. But she was not a judge and jury. The seriousness of what had happened could not be ignored. Everything might be covered up – all the evidence hidden away forever – but she would always know what she’d done.
The ground floor was busy – students, guards and instructors filled the common room. Allie turned right by and headed for Isabelle’s office.
Her office door was closed, but Allie could hear voices within.
She knocked sharply on the oak door, carved with an elaborate pattern of acorns, leaves and fruit, as familiar to Allie now as her own hands.
‘Come in.’