Clusters of hooded purple flowers swayed inside, as if hypnotized by an invisible breeze. They looked like the sort of thing her mother would tuck into a vase on the breakfast table.
“Those flowers may seem harmless,” said Madame Godard, as if she knew what Sylvie was thinking. “But aconite blooms are one of the world’s most ancient and lethal poisons.”
Sylvie stared at her feet. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
Madame Godard sat back in her chair. “The CCS is monitoring your situation closely.”
They’re doing a lot more than that.
“You shouldn’t make waves, Sylvie. I’m not going to report last night’s incident to them, but please don’t let it happen again. Go to class. Study hard. Make new friends.”
“That’s easier said than done,” said Sylvie.
“I’m sure it’s been difficult,” said Madame Godard. “That’s why I told Kitty to place you in Georgia’s room.”
Sylvie looked up. “You put me with her on purpose?”
Madame Godard nodded.
Sylvie was trying to make sense of it. “Why?”
“Georgia’s parents are both Scullery.” Madame Godard waved a hand toward the plants on the shelves. “Forget about corpse flowers and porcupine tomatoes. I don’t think the poor dears would recognize a sprig of fresh basil.”
Georgia’s words in the library floated back.At least you know where you belong.Now it made sense. Unfortunately, so did Darius’s threat.Keep your mouth shut, unless you want everyone to find out your dirty little secret. He knows about her family.No wonder Georgia was chewing her nails into nubs.
“Georgia’s background is enough of an obstacle,” Godard continued, “but her parents could barely scrape funds together for the preparatory program. You may not be aware, but since Bass took over, scholarships are hard to come by for people like her, with an …unprovenfamily history. You’re not in the exact same position, but you’re both facing real challenges.”
Guilt bubbled up. Maybe Sylvie had been wrong about Georgia all along.
In fact, if she was honest, it wasn’t only Georgia’s fault they’d gotten off to a bad start. Suddenly, making amends wasn’t just about borrowing Georgia’s phone.It’s the right thing to do.“But why are you telling me this?” asked Sylvie. She couldn’t help but feel as if she’d stolen a peek in someone’s diary. “Isn’t it private?”
“Things here tend to spread like butter on hot bread. Georgia’s situation will become common knowledge sooner or later.”
Probably sooner if Darius has his way.
“I would hope that none of my students would use it against her,” said Godard, “but injustice takes many forms. Once you recognize that, hopefully you can get on with things and stop feeling sorry for yourself.”
“I don’t feel sorry for myself,” said Sylvie.
Madame Godard raised a brow.
“Fine. Maybe a bit. I just wish the world could see the truth. My mom isn’t a cheat, and neither am I.”
“The truth…. Is that what you were after in the library?” asked Madame Godard.
“Yes,” said Sylvie firmly.
“In that case …” Madame Godard stood up and pulled out her knife, a glossy walnut handle with gold rivets connected to a slender brushed-steel blade. She pulled the platter of Bubble & Squeak toward her. This looked less like the answer Sylvie was looking for and more like a holiday appetizer tray.
“I think you have a right to know the whole story.” Madame Godard set the tray down on the desk. The scent of caramelized onions and fresh thyme filled the air.
Sylvie blinked.
Nestled between the crisp and golden rounds was an old magazine clipping of Sylvie’s mom. Little stars were printed across the page, along with the headline: “Upset and Surprise at the Golden Whisk! Meet the Winner and Get Her Recipe.”
Sylvie picked up the clipping. Her mom had once said that every recipe told a story. A moment in time, a person, a place, woven together with a series of ingredients. Sylvie wished she could reach into the page and pull off the stars, simmering them until their secrets wafted through the air.
“What is all this?” asked Sylvie.
