the age of sixty-five along with their addresses and e-mails." Ms. Lewis stopped what she was doing and looked up at me like I'd just
asked her to put an end to world hunger. "Come on," I wheedled. "For old times' sake?" Her glossy lips twisted into a semblance of a
smile. "Fine." She grabbed a pen and started to make a note on a Post-it, but there was no ink left. "Nothing is easy today," she said,
flinging the pen down and yanking open another drawer. A lockbox slammed forward as she did so. It was labeled--in old, chipped
paint--dorm keys. Suddenly a lump rose from my chest area into my throat. "You have keys to all the dorms?" I asked, my blood run-
ning cold. Ms. Lewis quickly slammed the drawer. "Yes. I have to have them so I can make copies when you oh-so-responsible stu-
dents lose them. Like your friend Kiki did last week."
She gestured at a gray machine atop a filing cabinet behind her. A maker of keys. "And that's where you keep them? In an unlocked
drawer in your desk?" She clucked her tongue and rolled her eyes. "The lockbox is locked," she said impatiently. "Hence the term
lockbox. " As she quickly made a note to put together the list I'd asked for, my mind started to roam free. Keys to all the dorms. Right
here where anyone could get to them. It wouldn't be that hard, if someone was determined. Dash and I had, after all, broken into this
very office last year to use Ms. Lewis's computer. Whoever was messing with me could have easily broken in and stolen the Billings
key. Could even have made a copy if they figured out how to work that machine. Anyone could have the key to Billings. Anyone.
"He's off the phone," Ms. Lewis announced, getting up. I cleared my throat and attempted to, at the same time, clear my brain. I
had to focus now. Cromwell. The passes. I could deal with this new discovery later. Ms. Lewis straightened her skirt and strode over
to the double door that connected her office to the headmaster's. "Reed Brennan to see you, Headmaster," she said as she opened the
door. "What can I do for you, Miss Brennan?" Cromwell asked, not even bothering to look up from the newspaper laid out on his siz-
able desk. Ms. Lewis left the two of us alone and I took a deep breath to calm my nerves. His office was blazing hot, as always, thanks
to a roaring fire in the ancient fireplace on the far side of the room. The windows were all shut tight, and there was little if any air to
be had. How could the man possibly work like this? Had he only recently escaped from hell?
"I'm here to request off-campus passes for this weekend for myself and four fellow students," I told him, hoping that maintaining a
formal tone would somehow impress him. I tugged at the collar of my sweater in an attempt to get some air to my skin. It didn't work.
"We want to go to New York to finalize plans for our fund-raiser."
"Miss Lange has already applied for, and secured, four passes for this trip," he said, languidly turning the page. I hesitated. Noelle
had already been here? When? And why would she apply for only four when we had already discussed the fact that we needed five?
She was trying to keep Sabine out. Of course she was. How could she have gone behind my back and-- "Was there anything else?"
Cromwell asked, still reading. Okay, focus. Sabine and Noelle were not the issue right now. "Yes, sir, I'd like one more pass," I said
firmly. Headmaster Cromwell took a deep breath. He looked at his glowing computer screen and hit a few buttons. "Miss Lange has
secured passes for you, Miss Simmons, Miss Clarke, and herself. Why, might I ask, are the four of you not enough? Are you in need
of someone to carry your bags? " He looked at me for the first time, a wry smile on his tight lips.