Trick Me Twice

I gaped at her in horror. “Wh-what?”

She sighed heavily, placing the box back in the drawer before returning her attention to me. “Only a small number of trusted students have a key to this room. You are the only student who is aware of the combination that unlocks this particular cash box. The only person, in fact, other than me.”

Was she implying—surely not!

“You don’t think it was me, do you?” My voice was shaky.

“Is there something you want to tell me, Miss Laurent?”

“No. It wasn’t me, I swear! I would never.” Nausea rose up in my stomach.

Her voice softened. “Raine. I’m aware of your…change in circumstances. If you’re in financial trouble, there’s help available. You don’t have to resort to theft.”

“I didn’t take the money, though!”

She shook her head sadly. “I’m afraid that I don’t believe you. You’re a talented costume designer, with no prior instances of bad behaviour, and for that reason I’m giving you a chance. Hand over your key and return the missing money to my office, and we’ll say no more about it. You’ll no longer be trusted with a key, but you can continue with the drama club.”

“B-but this isn’t fair! I don’t have it!” Frustrated tears filled my eyes as I looked at her helplessly.

“Then you can leave. And don’t come back until the cash is returned. All four hundred and twenty pounds of it.”

“Please…”

“Miss Laurent. Don’t make this any worse for yourself.”

With a cry, I fled the office, running straight into Dylan, who was passing by with a pile of scripts in his hand. We tumbled to the floor, papers flying everywhere.

“I’m so sorry!” I cried, picking myself up and starting to gather up his papers.

He sat up, rubbing his stomach where I’d crashed into him. “I think you winded me.”

“I’m so sorry,” I said again, my voice wobbly.

“It’s okay. Are you okay?” He looked at me with concern.

“Not really.”

After gathering up the rest of the scripts, he took my hand and tugged me to my feet, then released me. He patted my arm gently. “Do you want to talk about it?”

The story came pouring out. Poor Dylan—this was the second time he’d had to listen to me upset and ranting. When I’d finished, his expression had morphed from concern to shock and now outrage on my behalf.

“I can’t believe Mrs. Whittall would do something like that. You’re the nicest, most trustworthy student in the entire drama club. How could she even think for one second that you’d take the money?” He paced in front of me, deep in thought. “You don’t think it was Carter, do you?”

Yes. “I-I don’t know. But I’m not going to take it lying down. The photos were bad, but this? This is on another level.”

His brow furrowed. “What does he have against you?”

That, I had no answer for.

I managed to hold it together as I walked through the silent school building. Outside, though, standing with the sun warm on my face but ice around my heart, it hit me. A choked cry escaped my lungs as I tried to stop the tears from falling, but it was no use.

“Something happen, Laurent?” Carter was suddenly there in front of me, his football uniform covered in mud and a satisfied look on his face as he watched me falling apart in front of him.

A current of rage snapped through my veins, and just like that, I snapped.

“You did this!” I screamed and swung at him. My hand connected with his jaw, swinging his head around to the side.

His mouth dropped open, and he blinked, incredulity spreading across his face as he raised his hand to his face.