“Oh,” I say, uneasy at the prospect of staying here more than one night. This reunion has been formal and awkward, not at all what I pictured.
“Once the storm passes, Gordon can take you home.” She heads for the door, then turns back. “Why’d you tell him I e-mailed you?”
My mouth dries. “He said he couldn’t put family members in touch with guests. I figured if I said you reached out first, he might help me.”
“So there was no e-mail?”
I hesitate, loath to lie to my sister again, then shake my head anyway.
Kit nods, thinking. “You know, he’s more compassionate than you’d guess, Gordon.” She opens the door. “You should’ve told him the truth.”
28
Kit
TEN WEEKS EARLIER
OCTOBER 2019
I WOKE TO pounding at my door. Groggy, I opened my eyes and flipped the alarm clock toward me. The neon numbers announced it was 3:15 a.m. The person at the door knocked again.
“Kit. Open up.”
I pulled myself out of bed and shuffled to the door, swinging it open. On the other side stood Raeanne, dressed in baggy jeans and a flannel shirt. Her expression was urgent, life-or-death. Anxiety overpowered my drowsiness.
“What’s wrong?”
“You’re going to be initiated,” she said, barely able to contain her excitement. When I looked confused, she added, “Into the IC—the Inner Circle.”
“Right now?” My heart pounded. In the middle of the night?
“Everyone’s waiting for you.” She rushed into my room. “Hurry and get dressed.”
“Who’s everyone?” I rubbed my eyes. “What do you mean, initiated?”
She sighed. “Will you get dressed already?”
I went to the bathroom to change into jeans and a sweater. When I came back out, Raeanne was riffling through my desk drawer. She slammed it closed.
“Sorry,” she said guiltily, moving toward the door. “Teacher asked me to search for something.”
“What is it?”
She waved me off. “Never mind. We’ll be late.” She handed me my key card and yanked open the door to a brisk autumn night.
“Have I done something wrong?” I pulled my sweater sleeves so they covered my hands.
“Shhh. You’ll wake gen pop.” Since joining Wisewood’s staff, I had learned that Teacher and my coworkers referred to the guests as “gen pop” behind their backs, short for “general population.” The phrase sounded harmless enough but there was a certain superiority behind it—gen pop were the less committed among us.
Raeanne turned on her heel and took off in a jog. I dashed after her. Wisewood was bathed in midnight blue, peopleless. I glanced at the sky, millions of stars cold and distant.
“Raeanne, what were you looking for?”
She wove among the guesthouses, not slowing. “Teacher has us do routine checks on each other to make sure we’re all following the rules. I’m sure you’ll be searching my stuff in no time.”
Was that supposed to make me feel better? Did it?
I trailed her past the vegetable garden to the hedge on the west side of the island. We stopped at one of the STAFF ONLY doors, and my breath hitched. This was it—I was finally going beyond the wall.
Raeanne peeked over both shoulders, scanning the campus, then pulled a ring of keys from her pocket. She slid one of them into the lock and pushed the door open, signaling for me to go through.
I had roamed every inch of the island but never here, never through these doors. All those times I’d jiggled the handles, curiosity had overpowered fear, but now fear sliced through me. What was waiting for me out there? I shook off the weakness. My fellow staff members would never lead me into harm’s way.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“It’s a surprise.”
Raeanne locked the door and pulled a flashlight from her pocket, illuminating our path. Pine and rich earth perfumed the air around us. Nearby an owl hooted. We rushed through the forest, sticking to the narrow trail strewn with tree needles and moss. I was walking so fast that I barely registered my surroundings, other than clusters of spruce so tall and dense that I could no longer see the starry sky. I pictured the trees as a gang of Slender Men—spider-limbed and faceless, waiting, watching, following—and stuck as close to Raeanne’s six as I could. Insects gossiped; twigs snapped underfoot. I tugged the cuffs of my sweater tighter, swatting branches from my face.
After a while the forest gave way to enormous blocks of granite. In the dark I couldn’t see the ocean, but I heard waves slapping at the shore. We had reached the edge of the island.
On the granite stood a handful of people. They turned when they heard us approach. My pulse quickened.
I recognized Ruth first and let out a huge sigh—she wouldn’t be involved in anything untoward. I stepped onto a boulder beside her as she winked. Next to Ruth was Sanderson, hood pulled up, hands crammed into his sweatshirt pocket. I was surprised to see the cook Debbie here, beaming at me, but not at all surprised to find Sofia bouncing in place. Raeanne strutted to her own spot on the rocks, pulling a toothpick from a coat pocket. Rounding out the group was Gordon, standing at a distance with his arms crossed. None of them looked like they’d been roused from sleep.
Ruth checked her watch. “We’ll have to start without Jeremiah.” I perked up at my friend’s name, glad he also belonged. “Gather round.”
The group formed a tight circle. I felt a spike of disappointment—I’d been hoping Teacher was part of the IC too.
Ruth gazed at me. “Welcome, Kit, to Wisewood’s Inner Circle. Sometimes it’s hard to remember how fortunate we are when we’re all so busy. Lord knows I can barely keep up with the workload, what with the daily chores and classes, plus the planning of these things falling to me every time.” She glanced around the circle accusingly, then perked up. “Then again, no one else has my experience, which is why Teacher only trusts the job to me.” A few bodies tensed. Ruth frowned at Raeanne as soon as she opened her mouth, prompting her to close it again. “Tonight should serve as a reminder to each of us how wonderful this place is.”
“So wonderful,” Sofia said, already starting to tear up. Debbie took a subtle step away from her.
Behind Ruth the tide was low. The moon bounced like a spotlight off the sea life scattered across the boulders: rockweed, whelks, and periwinkles.
“We’re so thrilled you’re—”
The trees rustled, stopping Ruth mid-sentence. We all froze. There was someone or something in the forest. A bulky figure rushed onto the rocks.
“Sorry I’m late,” Jeremiah said, hands on his knees.
“Can you not fit a watch around that tree stump of an arm?” Raeanne grumbled as everyone relaxed again.
“Sorry,” Jeremiah repeated, still panting. “I got caught up.”
“Doing . . . ?” Gordon asked.
Jeremiah straightened, ignoring him.
“What were you caught up doing?” Gordon said again.
A hush fell over the group. Jeremiah stroked his beard, which he had let grow bushy. He hesitated a second too long. “Helping Teacher with tax stuff.”
At three in the morning? Even I, the newcomer, could tell he was lying.