He eyes me suspiciously. “Have you heard one?”
“No.” And it’s not a lie, because I haven’theardanything.
He doesn’t look like he believes me. “You’ve been reading those history books on the school. You want to know about the secret door, don’t you?”
My heart stops. “Do you have the key?”
He rolls his eyes. “You’re the smartest girl I know. I can’t believe you’re falling for these stupid lies.”
“What lies?” I say. “The secret door is real.”
“No, it isn’t. Every few weeks, someone hears some stupid rumor and they come to me wanting the Moss family crest to be the answer to the rumors. There is no door, Sophia.”
I start to object, to tell him that there is a door, that I’ve seen it, but we’re at Kellylynch Hall now.
“Just drop it,” he says softly. “There is no door. There is no key. We can be friends but not if you only want me for something that doesn’t exist.”
Chapter Fifteen
Now that Iknow the key is a real thing, the garden consumes me. Declan so much as admitted it when he said there is no key. He was clearly lying. But it’s hard to get more information from him because I’m trying to stay away from him.
Not because we’re enemies, but because we’re friends. I also did some digging on this Chad Stokes guy and he’s bad news. His dad is the person who gets involved in political scandals and suddenly the politician everyone was mad at disappears. If he can do that to a high profile person, I shudder to think of what he’d do to Declan, a regular high school kid with no famous family. He could ruin his life.
So I stay away.
Declan and I exchange small smiles in class, but only if no one is looking. Sometimes we say hello if we pass each other on campus. But every time he tries to talk to me, I say no. I whisper, “I don’t want you in trouble.”
It is totally my luck that the one time I did something not selfish by reporting Chad two years ago, my good deed came back to ruin my high school experience. But I can’t fret over it now. All I truly care about is finding that key and getting into the garden. Even my crush on Declan takes a backseat while I obsess over trying to find it.
Two weeks pass. I sit through class each day, desperate for the bell to ring so I can walk back out to the garden and look for the key. I’ve started thinking that maybe the key is hidden somewhere near the garden door. If the door is hidden, then maybe the key is, too. It only makes sense.
But as the days drag on and I still haven’t found anything, I start getting worried that maybe the key is hidden somewhere else. These gardens are huge. Maybe it’s hanging on a hook on a wall that’s been covered with decades of vine growth. It’s only three months until graduation. I’ll never find it at this rate.
And then I’ll never get to bring Belle to the garden. She’ll never start to overcome her anxieties.
It’ll all be because I can’t find this hidden key.
Frustrated with another day of wandering around the garden until the sun sets, I start to make my way back to the dorm. I’ve been here so often that I know these pathways now. I can get to the hidden door five different ways. Even in the dark, I can make my way back without needing a flashlight.
Yet I can’t find the key.
Disappointment floods through me as I slowly walk back to the dorm. It’s just after seven, and I wish the sun didn’t set so early so I’d have more time to search. I thought about bringing a flashlight, but I don’t want to draw attention to myself. I’ve learned that the students don’t tend to wander very far into the gardens, probably because they’re afraid they’ll get lost. Once I get deep enough in the maze of beautiful greenery, I don’t have to worry about running into anyone. Bringing a flashlight might change that, though. I don’t want to draw any attention to myself or to the hidden garden door.
I stop by the dining hall and grab dinner to go. I text Belle asking what she wants to eat, but she doesn’t reply. After a few minutes of waiting around, I decide to grab her the same thing I’m getting myself, which is pasta alfredo with garlic bread and a side salad.
My hands are full as I make my way down the hallway to our dorm, so I kick at the bottom of the door with my foot instead of knocking. “Belle? It’s me.”
I wait a few seconds, but she doesn’t answer the door. “Belle?”
Maybe she’s in the shower, which would explain why she never answered my text. I set the bags of food on the floor and reach for my key. As soon as the door opens, Belle calls out my name.
“Finally!” she says. “Oh my God, it hurts so much. I’m so glad you’re home.”
“What’s going on?” I say, rushing inside, the food forgotten on the floor. The dorm room is a mess. Belle is sprawled on the floor near her bed, hunched over her ankle. A stepladder is also on the floor, tipped sideways, as well as a container that used to hold thumbtacks. Now the thumbtacks are scattered all over the floor, like tiny little landmines.
On her bed, a strand of clear twinkly lights blink and glow, half thumb-tacked to the wall, and half dangling on the bed.
I slide my foot across the floor, clearing a pathway out of the thumbtacks so I can get to my cousin.
