“What about GKD? It’s Genevieve, right?”
“They didn’t seem to know, but it has to be. She’s the one in the visions, and the D must stand for Duchannes. I was gonna ask Amma, but when I showed her the locket her eyes almost fell out of her head. Like it was triple hexed, soaked in a bucket of voodoo, and wrapped in a curse for good measure.
And my dad’s study is off-limits, where he keeps all my mom’s old books about Gatlin and the War.” I was rambling. “You could talk to your uncle.”
“My uncle won’t know anything. Where’s the locket now?”
“In my pocket, wrapped in a pouch full of powder Amma dumped all over it when she saw it. She thinks I took it back to Greenbrier and buried it.”
“She must hate me.”
“No more than any of my girl, you know, friends. I mean, friends who are girls.” I couldn’t believe how stupid I sounded. “I think we’d better get to class before we get in even more trouble.”
“Actually, I was thinking about going home. I know I’m going to have to deal with them eventually, but I’d like to live in denial for one more day.”
“Won’t you get in trouble?”
She laughed. “With my uncle, the infamous Macon Ravenwood, who thinks school is a waste of time and the good citizens of Gatlin are to be avoided at all costs? He’ll be thrilled.”
“Then why do you even go?” I was pretty sure Link would never show up at school again if his mom wasn’t chasing him out the door every morning.
She twisted one of the charms on her necklace, a seven-pointed star. “I guess I thought it would be different here. Maybe I could make some friends, join the newspaper or something. I don’t know.”
“Our newspaper? The Jackson Stonewaller?”
“I tried to join the newspaper at my old school, but they said all the staff positions were filled, even though they never had enough writers to get the paper out on time.” She looked away, embarrassed. “I should get going.”
I opened the door for her. “I think you should talk to your uncle about the locket. He might know more than you think.”
“Trust me, he doesn’t.” I slammed the door. As much as I wanted her to stay, a part of me was relieved she was going home. I was going to have enough to deal with today.
“Do you want me to turn that in for you?” I pointed at the notebook lying on the passenger seat.
“No, it’s not homework.” She flipped open the glove compartment and shoved the notebook inside.
“It’s nothing.” Nothing she was going to tell me about, anyway.
“You’d better go before Fatty starts scouting the lot.” She started the car before I could say anything else, and waved as she pulled away from the curb.
I heard a bark. I turned to see the enormous black dog from Ravenwood, only a few feet away, and who it was barking at.
Mrs. Lincoln smiled at me. The dog growled, the hair along its back standing on end. Mrs. Lincoln looked down at it with such revulsion, you would’ve thought she was looking at Macon Ravenwood himself. In a fight, I wasn’t sure which one of them would come out on top.
“Wild dogs carry rabies. Someone should notify the county.” Yeah, someone.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Who was that I just saw drivin’ off in that strange black car? You seemed to be havin’ quite a conversation.” She already knew the answer. It wasn’t a question. It was an accusation.
“Ma’am.”
“Speakin’ a strange, Principal Harper was just tellin’ me he’s plannin’ on offerin’ that Ravenwood girl an occupational transfer. She can take her pick, any school in three counties. As long as it’s not Jackson.”
I didn’t say anything. I didn’t even look at her.
“It’s our responsibility, Ethan. Principal Harper’s, mine—every parent in Gatlin’s. We have to be sure to keep the young people in this town outta harm’s way. And away from the wrong sorta people.”
Which meant anyone who wasn’t like her.
She reached out her hand and touched me on the shoulder, just as she had done to Emily, not ten minutes ago. “I’m sure you understand my meanin’. After all, you’re one of us. Your daddy was born here and your mamma was buried here. You belong here. Not everyone does.”
I stared back at her. She was in her van before I could say another word.
This time, Mrs. Lincoln was after more than burning a few books.
Once I got to class, the day became abnormally normal, weirdly normal. I didn’t see any more parents, though I suspected they were there loitering around the office. At lunch, I ate three bowls of chocolate pudding with the guys, as usual, though it was clear what and who we weren’t talking about. Even the sight of Emily madly texting all through English and chemistry seemed like some kind of reassuring universal truth. Except for the feeling that I knew what, or rather who, she was texting about. Like I said, abnormally normal.
Until Link dropped me off after basketball practice and I decided to do something completely insane.