“Everyone, please bow your heads in a moment of silence for our friend, Lexa Greene.”
A choked sob escaped Maria’s throat. She was practically crushing Ariana’s fingers. Ariana closed her
eyes, and pictured Lexa’s smiling face.
I’m going to kill Reed Brennan, Lex. I’m finally going to do it. I’m going to do it for you.
In Ariana’s mind’s eye, Lexa’s smile broadened, and a sense of peace and certainty settled in over Ariana’s shoulders. Wherever Lexa was, she was proud of Ariana’s resolution. Wherever she was, she approved.
“Thank you,” the headmaster said. “May she rest in peace.”
Ariana lifted her head. It was all she could do to keep from smiling in satisfaction.
“Now, to the practical,” Headmaster Jansen began in a more formal tone. “The school has hired a grief counselor who will be setting up a permanent office here on campus. The doctor will be available to all of you during the school day, and a hotline will be set up for after hours. The hotline number will be posted around campus and on the school’s website. He is an awarded professional, highly regarded in his field, so please make use of his expertise whenever you feel the need to talk to someone outside your own circle. But also know that each of you will be required to speak to him at one point this week. Half hour sessions have been scheduled for all students. You will report to the administration building at your designated time. No exceptions.”
Ariana glanced across the aisle at Jasper. He rolled his eyes. For the first time all morning, voices could be heard among the student population, and none of them sounded happy.
“I’ve asked him to attend this morning’s services so that we can all welcome him to the Atherton-Pryce Hall community,” Headmaster Jansen continued. “Students, faculty, I’d like to introduce to you, Dr. Victor Meloni.”
Ariana’s free hand gripped the end of the pew as the entire world seemed to tilt beneath her. The edges of her vision went dark, and all she could see was the man rising up from the front pew to a smattering of awkward applause. Ariana recognized every detail with vivid horror—his thinning hair, his elbow-patched blazer, his broad shoulders, his square jaw. His cheap rubber-soled shoes squeaked as he strode toward the podium. When he turned toward the chapel, he wore an affected, overly concerned, and falsely friendly smile. The smarm seeped off of him, puddling like green goo at his feet. Ariana sank so low in her seat, her butt hung off the edge.
This was not possible. Why him? Why now? How could this be happening to her?
“Ana! Ow. Loosen up,” Maria whispered.
Ariana looked down at her hand, clasped around Maria’s slim fingers. She thought she heard a slight crack.
“Sorry,” she muttered, releasing her friend.
Maria shook her hand, and Ariana could see the distinct outlines of her own fingers, white against the pained red of Maria’s skin.
“Thank you all for that warm welcome,” Dr. Meloni said loudly.
The rumbling tone of his voice sent violent shivers through Ariana’s core. Suddenly, she heard that very voice inside her mind, shouting at an unnatural decibel, as if he was holding a bullhorn to his lips in the center of her skull.
You are not capable of change. If you were ever to be released from this facility, I am categorically certain that you would kill again.
“Ana? Ana?”
She could see Maria’s lips moving, could feel the hard bench behind her back, but she was not there. She was back in Meloni’s office at the Brenda T., clinging to the arms of her uncomfortable chair, her pulse thrumming in her very ears.
So no, Miss Osgood, you are not getting out of here. Not today, not tomorrow, not five years from now. Or ten. Or twenty. Not as long as I’m the one signing your chart.
“Ana?” Maria said again.
Somewhere in the chapel, a heavy book hit the floor. Ariana flinched. She took in a breath and coughed, sitting up straight as Maria clung to her arm.
“Are you okay?” Tahira’s voice chimed in, coming from behind.
“I have to get out of here,” Ariana muttered, catching her breath.
“What? You can’t just leave morning services,” Tahira protested, gazing up at her as Ariana rose from her pew. Ariana kept her back to the podium as she gathered up her coat and bag.
“I need some air. I have to … I have to go.”
“I’ll come with you,” Maria said, starting to get up.
“No,” Ariana blurted, startling her. She could already feel people starting to stare. Could feel Meloni’s eyes boring into the back of her neck as she stood in the aisle. “Sorry. I just … I’d like to be alone for a little while.”