A few people nodded. I could hardly breathe. This was it. A few more moments and we'd be safe.
“Go!”
Everyone ducked and ran. Josh clutched my hand and a few
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people laughed as we crossed the last few yards of open space between the tree line and the west wall of Dayton House, one of the girls' dorms. Once there, we all gathered against the cold, wet brick, gasping for air and counting our blessings. The mist was not so heavy here among the campus buildings. I was about to break away from Josh and head for Billings, when I looked around at my friends and realized that all of their faces were flashing red, then blue, then red, then blue.
“What is that?” someone said.
“Hang on.”
Josh disentangled his hand from mine and crept to the corner of the building. At first he simply peeked his head around, but then his shoulders slumped and he stepped right out into the open.
“Oh, my God,” he said.
All the air whooshed out of me. “What?”
Not even the fear of being caught could have stopped us from satisfying our curiosity. We all moved carefully to the corner and gathered around Josh. What I saw made me want to sink to my knees and turn and run all at once.
Police cars. Everywhere. On the grass between the dorms. In the quad. Every student in school was outside their dorms in various stages of dress, whispering and looking around as cops in uniforms circled among them, talking in low tones or shouting orders.
“We are so dead,” someone behind me said.
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I had to agree. Clearly every police officer within a hundred- mile radius had been called to the scene. And why not? Thirty students missing? Thirty of the most precious and overprivileged sons and daughters in the country? Of course the authorities would respond in droves.
“No. It's not for us,” Josh said. “Look at them.”
So I did. And he was right. Some of the students sat on the benches, wide-?eyed and open mouthed. Others cried. Three girls hugged one another over near the back entrance of Bradwell. Somewhere nearby someone was clearly sobbing.
“What the hell is going on?” Dash said. Let's go.
With that, Dash, Gage, Josh, and Whittaker, along with a few other guys, jogged ahead. The rest of us were rooted to the spot. There was only one word in my mind.
“Thomas,” I whispered.
I whirled around and looked at Noelle. Her skin was as white as the mist swirling all around her. She stared past me, unblinking.
“Do you think it's--”
Pounding footsteps interrupted my words. A hand fell on my shoulder. Instantly every pore in my body filled with dread.
“Reed,” Josh said, his voice harsh and strained. “Reed.”
I turned around slowly. I didn't want to look at him. Didn't want to see on his face what I had already heard in his voice. He stood before me, panting. Anguished tears streamed down his face.
“It's Thomas. They found his body,” he said, bracing his
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hands over his knees. “Reed, he's . . . Thomas is dead.”
I shut my eyes and squeezed my hands into fists, so tight I could feel my nails breaking through the skin of my palms. I silently begged my heart to keep on beating. I willed my lungs to keep filling with air. I looked down at my hands, at my new ring glittering in the flashing lights. I tried to concentrate on this. And only this.
I knew if I opened my mouth even the tiniest crack I would start screaming. I would just start screaming and I would never, ever be able to stop.