I’d been told he was a mute and communicated via written notes and gestures, but I knew nothing about a whistle. After pointing an accusatory finger at Kat and Roxie, the caretaker shuffles over to the closet where Quan helps him drag down what I can now see is a mannequin. Before becoming the resident caretaker, Jippetto used to make them for shops in Paris, and he still has a collection. Those woodworking skills are the reason he’s the go-to for sets and props at the academy.
I slide down the wall and curl my arms around my knees, barring the shell shock from all sides. Not only did Kat manage to shake my foundations, but there’s no way Mister Jippetto could possibly be the guy I saw half hiding in the garden on my arrival.
I can’t do this anymore. Someone very real is shadowing my every move, and I need to know who.
I shift my gaze to the mirrors and for an instant I see it, clear as day: a gloved hand pressed to the opposite side of the glass, as if to tell me I’m right, or maybe to offer support. Then it’s gone.
Once I’m on my feet again, Tomlin gets the class back on schedule without skipping a beat and everyone manages to finish their labs. Two minutes before the dismissal bell rings, the professor tells our table to stay put. After everyone’s left, he closes the door and gives the four of us a speech about how we’re all in the opera together, which means being supportive and being a team. That the reason he paired us for the lab in the first place was in hopes we might learn to work together.
“You guys really need to end it here. Headmaster Fabre and Principal Norrington aren’t taking Rune’s missing uniforms as lightly as you might think. Student perks are in danger—”
“Uh, wait a second,” Kat interrupts. “We had nothing to do with the uniforms! This mannequin thing was to teach Rune and her kleptomaniac pal Sunflower Sunshine a lesson about sneaking into my room and stealing my brush.”
“Summers,” I correct, annoyed by her subtle dig on Sunny. “And why would either of us want anything that has your DNA on it?”
“It was a Mason Pearson boar-bristle hairbrush,” Kat says, her perfect forehead furrowed, as if she can’t fathom my ignorance. “Worth more money than Sunny’s cheap dye job.”
“Sunny’s hair is naturally red,” Quan interjects. “And she doesn’t steal.”
For the most part, anyway, I think, and by the gaze Quan shoots me, I can tell we’re sharing brainwaves.
Roxie stands up at the table. It’s unsettling to see such a hard expression on a face that matches Jax’s, who’s almost always smiling or cracking a joke. “Awfully coincidental how it went missing the first full day you were here. Kat hasn’t seen it since Monday morning before breakfast.”
Tomlin pounds the table, getting our attention back on him. “Here’s my one-time offer. I don’t care who did what. I won’t report any of this conversation, or what happened today in my room, but only if these pranks stop now. Because were anyone to go to the headmaster with even one more thing, you guys can forget about having any fun activities for a while. That includes Saturday outings and the masquerade being canceled. Do you hear what I’m saying, ladies?”
The three of us nod.
He turns to Quan. “Okay, dude, I’m appointing you as referee. See that everyone gets along so you and Sunny can win the title of best costume couple again this year.”
Quan gives the professor one of his lopsided smiles along with a thumbs-up. “You got it, Prof.”
The four of us head out. I’m last, and just as I step into the hall, Tomlin stops me. We move to the wall beside the door, out of the wave of students rushing to class.
His intense blue eyes study me. “How’s your voice? Did you hurt it screaming?”
I tamp down the panic his question inspires, feeling eyes on me from inside the walls, too. My voice is the least of my worries. “Um, no.”
“That’s good.”
He starts back inside when I mumble, “I wish I had.”
He turns on his heel and rubs his beard. “Look, you know about my accident, right?”
“Yeah.” I cinch my arms around my books and strain to hear him over the passing students.
“Before that, my parents used to pressure me to be a doctor because I was so good at science and biology. To appease them, I was going to medical school, even though I didn’t want it. I wanted my music. And I wanted to make science and theater fun for kids,” he says. “After the crash, I realized how much time I’d wasted trying to be what someone else thought I should be. So, believe me, I get it. Just because you’re good at something, doesn’t mean you want to do it forever. Or at all. I made my choice and never looked back. Someday, Rune, you’ll get to make your choice and be free to do what you want. Just take care of yourself until then, okay?”
His kindness touches me, even though he has no clue. My issues have nothing to do with any choice on my part. I see Sunny wave at the other end of the corridor where we always meet up before second period and offer a nod. “Thanks, Professor Tomlin.”
He flashes his teeth in a grin that makes him look way too close to our age, even with the facial hair. “Call me Prof. And give it time. Things will get easier for you soon.”