Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 130924 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 655(@200wpm)___ 524(@250wpm)___ 436(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130924 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 655(@200wpm)___ 524(@250wpm)___ 436(@300wpm)
By the time I get to the faculty dorm, my hair and coat are soaked, and I’m chilled to the bone. I go through the front doors, the building only a little warmer than outside, and head up the stairs, but once I’m at the top, about to silently creep to Crane’s side, I stop. Another cramp flutters inside me, and I remember Ms. Choi. Surely she might have some sort of tea for this kind of thing.
So I head down toward the woman’s wing and knock on her door, hoping she’s not teaching a later class.
She opens it right away.
“Kat,” she says quietly. “My goodness, you’re a drowned rat. Come in.”
I step inside as she closes the door behind me. It’s warm and cozy in here, her incense filling the room in a cloud of sweet-smelling smoke.
“Let me take your coat,” she says, looking at the cloth in my hands. “And what is this?”
“Banketstaaf,” I tell her. “I was bringing them for a friend of mine. You’re welcome to have one.” I’m sure neither of the boys will mind.
“That’s kind of you, but I haven’t had an appetite lately,” she says, placing the pastries on the coffee table and hanging my coat on the hook behind the door. “Have a seat. Make yourself comfortable.”
I sit down on the desk chair, but I don’t get too comfortable, knowing I won’t be staying long.
“How are you doing?” she says, sitting on the bed across from me. “You must be having a rough go. I was there when Lotte fell from the roof, I saw you there too. Horrible thing to witness.”
“Fell?” I repeat. “I’m certain she jumped.”
She gives me a quick smile. “Yes, well, as you know that’s not the official statement that the Sisters have put out.”
I frown. “It’s not?”
“I take it you weren’t at the assembly in the cathedral?”
“No.”
“I see,” she says slowly. “Well, the Sisters have declared her death an accident. She didn’t kill herself, she didn’t mean to fall. She went up to the roof to do some sort of elemental spell and she slipped.”
I shake my head, nearly laughing at how incredulous this sounds. “But you know that’s not true. You saw her. I saw her too. That was no accident.”
Ms. Choi rubs her lips together and looks out the window at the rain spattering on the pane.
“I don’t know what I saw except a girl that fell to her death. Tragic.”
I frown at her. “I may be a Van Tassel, but I am not on my aunts’ side. I’m not telling them anything. You can tell me what you really think,” I say to her, though I’m lowering my voice. “They aren’t watching you.”
Ms. Choi swallows audibly and looks over my shoulder with fearful expression.
I twist around and look to see a painting on the wall. One of a raven perched in a tree, a full moon behind it. Its eyes are black and shiny and lifelike.
Fear trickles down my spine.
It’s almost as if the raven is real and staring right at me.
“What?” I ask, looking back at her. “What about the painting?”
She clears her throat. “I’m sure it was an accident,” she says in a clipped voice. “Poor girl, she should have never been up there.”
And now I’m noticing something different about her.
The Ms. Choi of last week had smooth skin, bright eyes, shiny hair.
This version of her has dry, sallow looking skin, hollows under her cheekbones that weren’t there before, and black circles under her eyes. Her hair is dull and peppered with grey.
“Are you alright?” I ask her, leaning in closer.
She gives me a faint smile and nods. “Mmmhmm. I’m fine,” she says, rubbing at her thumb. “So, what can I do for you? I feel you came here wanting something.”
What have they done to you? I want to ask.
Something is terribly wrong here.
“My apologies,” she adds, dropping her head slightly and pressing her thumb into her forehead. “I’ve not been feeling well lately. I think I got a terrible illness over the weekend, and it still hasn’t left me. I can barely remember the last few days.”
And you barely remember what happened to Lotte.
“That’s alright,” I tell her, wondering if perhaps she’s telling the truth. She does look sick. “I came here because I, well, I’m having my monthly bleeds and the cramps that come along with it. Do you per chance have any sort of herbal tea or medicine for it? I suppose I could go to the nurse…”
She raises her head and blinks at me. “I have just the thing.”
She gets up and goes into her bathroom, coming out holding a small reddish-brown bottle with a faded label on it. “Here. This is laudanum. It’s an opium tincture. Better than any herbal or witch’s medicine, believe me. I’ve been taking a lot of it lately. Really does make the pain go away.”