Once An Eve Novel

thirty-eight



“YOU’LL BE STAYING ON THE THIRD FLOOR,” TEACHER AGNES said as we started up the stairs. She glanced every now and then at Beatrice, whose face was still swollen and red. “It’s good to see you again,” she added. Her gaze met mine.

Teacher Agnes’s shoulders hunched forward as she conquered each step, moving slowly beside me, her knotted fingers clutching the railing. She had been a constant presence in my life, even after I’d left School. I heard her voice sometimes when Caleb touched the nape of my neck, when his fingers danced over my stomach. I had hated her, the fury coming to me as I remembered everything she had said in those classes, how she’d spoken of the manipulative nature of all men, how love was just a lie, the greatest tool wielded against women to make them vulnerable.

But now she looked so small beside me. Her neck was bent, making it seem like she was always looking at the ground. Her breaths were raspy and slow. I wondered if she had really aged or if it was the time that had passed, the months in the wild that allowed me to see her through a stranger’s eyes. “Yes, it’s been quite awhile,” I said.

I reached out and took Beatrice’s hand in my own as we started on to the third floor. I’d found her hiding in the doorway to the kitchen, her sweater pressed to her face, trying to quiet her sobs. Sarah wasn’t here. There was nothing I could say, nothing I could do except hold her, her cheek pressed against my chest as she cried. After a few minutes I’d returned to the girls and Headmistress Burns, answered their questions and assured them my friend was fine, just sick from all those hours trapped in the Jeep’s stuffy cab.

“The guards have brought up your bags.” Teacher Agnes turned in to a room on the right, moving through it, lighting the lanterns on the bedside tables. The familiar sounds of the students filled the corridor. The girls were huddled in the bathroom, brushing their teeth, their laughs louder against the tile walls. A Teacher strode out of the bathroom, turning when she noticed me. We stared at each other a moment before her face broke into a smile, which disappeared so quickly I wondered if I’d imagined it.

It was Teacher Florence.

“I’ll just be a minute,” I said, holding up a finger to Beatrice, who had settled down on the bed. Teacher Florence was still in her red blouse and blue slacks, her gray hair wavy from the humidity. “I was wondering if I would see you.” I glanced down the hall to the staircase to make sure Headmistress Burns was not in sight. “You’re all right?”

We were standing in the hall, where I’d stood so many times, those nights when Ruby and I hovered outside the bathroom, waiting for a free sink. Teacher Florence gestured to a door at the end of the corridor—my old room—and we ducked inside. It was empty. She didn’t speak until we were alone, the metal door shut behind us. “I’m doing well,” she said. “And so are you, I hope.” Her eyes searched my face.

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t stop looking at the room. They’d moved our beds so they were in a row against one wall. All three were unmade, strewn with tattered books and crumpled uniforms. A notepad on one bedside table was covered with doodles. Pinned to the wall above the desk was a paper with a black-and-white drawing of two girls, the words ANNIKA & BESS: FRIENDS FOREVER written below it in big puffy letters. All traces of Pip, Ruby, and me were gone.

“I am. Life’s much different in the City,” I said, ignoring the lump in the back of my throat.

“I didn’t know you were the King’s daughter,” Teacher Florence stated. “It was something only Headmistress Burns knew.” She sat down on a narrow bed, her fingers picking at the stiff gray blanket.

I wondered if that would’ve changed things—if she still would’ve helped me escape that night, taking me out through the secret door in the wall. “I figured as much,” I said slowly.

“I heard that Arden was brought back, that she’s on the other side of the lake now. Did you know?” she asked.

I sat down beside her. “I did.” We both stared ahead, not meeting each other’s eyes. “I saw her when I was in the wild. She saved me.” I looked at the broken tile in the floor, the one that Pip and I used to hide notes under. The cracked piece was missing now, the dirty grout exposed.

She stood, fidgeting with the keys in her pocket. “I was the one who brought the girls to the graduation ceremony. Pip didn’t want to leave. She started crying. She swore something had happened to you—that you never would’ve left. She kept asking Headmistress Burns to have the guards search outside the wall. It made me wonder about what I had told you …” She trailed off, her hand moving in her pocket, filling the quiet with the jingling of keys. “… maybe it could’ve been different.”

I had replayed that moment in my head so many times before, recounting Teacher Florence’s words, her orders that I must go alone. I had imagined all the different things I could’ve done, imagined myself waking Pip and Ruby, or hiding out somewhere beyond the wall. I imagined coming back the next day when they congregated on the lawn, yelling to them about the Graduates and all the King’s plans.

Teacher Florence walked to the far corner, where a single chair sat against the wall. She slid it forward. “It wasn’t until after the girls went over the bridge that I discovered this. I’d come back to clear out the room.”

I kneeled behind the chair with her, my fingers running over the carved letters. EVE + PIP + RUBY WERE HERE, it said. I’d forgotten all about it. Pip had come into the room one morning after breakfast excited about Violet, another girl in our year who had written on her closet wall, behind the clothes where no one would discover it. She’d put our bed against the door as we sat there with a stolen knife, etching out our names. I stared at it now, my eyes blurry, remembering the way she had smiled that day, so satisfied when we’d completed our little masterpiece.

Before I could say anything, Teacher Florence’s hand was in mine, pressing a cool object into my palm. She nodded at me as if to affirm what it was. Then she pushed my fist down, gesturing for me to put it away. I tucked it into the pocket, feeling immediately that it was a key. The key.

The door flew open, the metal banging against the cement wall. “You were too scared to ask her!” A girl’s voice broke the silence between us. “You’re such a chicken sometimes.”

Two fifteen-year-old girls had come in, the fronts of their nightgowns wet from washing their faces. They froze when they saw us. One of the girls was blushing so much her ears turned red.

“Did you want to ask me something?” I said, smiling as I stepped out from behind the chair. The girls didn’t answer. “This was my old room when I was at School. I hope you don’t mind; Teacher Florence was showing me around.”

The girl who’d been talking had thick black bangs that fell in her eyes. “No,” she muttered, shaking her head. “Of course not.”

I grabbed Teacher Florence’s hand, wanting to thank her—for understanding, for helping me, for not asking me to explain anything—but then Headmistress Burns appeared in the doorway, her lips pursed. “I was looking for you, Princess,” she said, her eyes darting to me, then Teacher Florence. “I’d like to speak with you in my office, alone.” She turned to Teacher Florence. “Please see to it that these girls get to bed in a timely manner.”

Then she disappeared into the hall, not bothering to see if I would follow her. I didn’t dare look at Teacher Florence as I left. Instead, I felt the key in my pocket, turning it between my fingers, the weight of it calming me. Just before I crossed the threshold into the hall, I pulled it out and stuck it down the collar of my dress.

The hall lights shut off. Headmistress Burns held a lantern as we started down the stairs to her office. My cheeks burned at the thought of sitting in that room. No one went there unless they were being punished. I felt like a child now, nervous and afraid, wanting to confess everything I had ever done to displease her.

When we reached her office she set the lantern on the desk, then gestured for me to sit. The door slammed shut, making the light inside the glass flicker. I kept my eyes on her, my shoulders back, refusing to look away. “Can I help you with something, Headmistress?” I asked. “The trip has taken a lot out of me. I’m eager to get to bed.”

She let out a small laugh. “Yes, Princess,” she said, a hint of sarcasm in her voice. “I’m sure you are.” She sat down in front of me, her plump haunches squeezed onto the corner of the desk. Her leg swung back and forth, back and forth, a metronome keeping time.

My hands were slicked with sweat. I kept my eyes on hers. She could accuse me of whatever she wanted. It didn’t matter now. I thought only of Pip, Arden, and Ruby, and the key pressed against my breast—their only chance. “You must’ve thought you would outsmart us all,” she said coldly. “That we were liars, that we had deceived you. But now here you are, your father’s daughter, raving about the education you received.”

“Do you have a point?” I asked. “Did you call me in here just to chastise me?”

Headmistress leaned down, her face level with mine. “I called you in here because I want to know who helped you. Tell me who it was.”

“I didn’t have help,” I muttered. “I don’t—”

“You’re lying to my face.” She laughed. “You expect me to believe that you got over that wall by yourself?”

So she thought I had scaled it. That was impossible—it was nearly thirty feet high—and yet I didn’t correct her, saw my opening and went with it. “I had found rope in the Teacher’s closet. Yards of it. I cut my arm on the wire on top.” I showed her where the warehouse door had sliced my skin when I was trying to escape the Lieutenant. The scar was still pink.

She tilted her head as if considering it. “How did you know about the Graduates?” she asked.

“I’d always had suspicions,” I said coolly. The control was shifting, my voice calmer as each question was answered to her satisfaction. “But it doesn’t matter how I escaped. What matters is that I’m here. And I addressed the girls. I explained away my disappearance and spoke highly about your School. Tomorrow morning, I’d like to see my friends.”

“That cannot be arranged,” she said quickly. She stood and went to the window, her arms crossed over her chest. Outside, the compound was dark. A few lamps shone on the top of the wall, the barbed wire glinting in the light. “That would raise all sorts of questions. It would confuse the students.”

“Wouldn’t it be more confusing for them if I left for the City and never returned, if I didn’t even want to see my friends to know how they were doing in their trade school across the lake?”

Headmistress Burns faced me. She let out a deep breath, her thumb running over the thick veins on the back of her hand. I stared at the figurines lined up on her shelf—shiny, garish children that seemed menacing now, their features contorted in a strange, unnatural ecstasy. She didn’t speak for a long while.

“Do I have to remind you that one day I will be Queen?” I hardened my voice as I said it.

Her face changed then. She took a few steps forward, her nose scrunching as if she’d caught a whiff of something rotten. “Fine. You will see your friends tomorrow.” She turned to the door and opened it, indicating that I should leave.

I stood, smoothing my dress. “Thank you, Headmistress,” I said, trying to keep from smiling. I strode out the door and down the dark corridor, feeling my way as I had so many times before.

“But remember, Eve,” she called when I’d nearly reached the stairs. She was still standing in the doorway, the lantern casting shadows on her face. “You aren’t Queen yet.”