Faye
What the fuck?
I swiped my finger through the wet letters and brought it to my nose. My stomach churned afresh. My mind flicked to Harrison’s drawn face as he told me the last maid at Manderley had been murdered.
I scrunched up my face.I don’t want to do this.
I sniffed.
Odd.
I’d seen enough horror films to expect the metallic tang of blood but instead, I smelled lipstick. In fact… I opened my eyes and rubbed the red between my fingers. Yep, that was definitely lipstick. The color looked suspiciously similar to the one Heather wore yesterday.
A juvenile prank. Just Dorien’s style.
Dickweasels.
What concerned me most wasn’t the stupid message, but the fact that one of the students snuck into my roomwhile I was asleep. They couldn’t have climbed in the window, which only left the door.
The door I’d most definitely locked.
I crossed the room in three strides and checked – still locked. I yanked the door open and inspected the mechanism. Nothing broken.
Which means… they have a key.
That probably meant they also have a key to the storage room next door. That would explain the creaking sounds last night. One of them must’ve hidden in there and waited until I went to sleep, then snuck in to write the message.
Dorien.
But no – I realized with a start that Dorien couldn’t have done it if he was hiding in the storage room. I saw him with the other students hanging out around that table, and there was no way he could have made it from there up the stairs to the storage room without me hearing him – the stairs creaked more than an Edgar Allan Poe poem.
My heart leaped in my chest as I crossed to the window and drew back the curtain. Sure enough, there was the table, with an ashtray and an empty bottle of Scotch. They might’ve snuck up while I was asleep to do the mirror, but that didn’t explain the footsteps. I couldn’t see how anyone around that table could have been making the footsteps in the storage room.
Unless…
It must’ve been Aroha. She hadn’t been with the group at the table, I remembered.
Great. So they were all in on it with the Muses. Dorien’s hatred of me was personal, and I didn’t understand it. He was the one who brokemyheart. But whatever. We at least had a history. The others… they didn’t even know me. Aroha didn’t look like rich-bitch Heather. Something about her clothes and the tattoos and the way she carried herself told me she didn’t give a fuck what anyone thought of her or Dorien’s petty problem with me. So why was she sneaking around in the storage closet and writing messages on my mirror?
I turned from the window, squaring my shoulders.
I grabbed my violin case and thundered downstairs, not caring that I sounded like a herd of elephants charging through the silent house. I stood in front of the door to Madame Usher’s private chambers.
They have a key to my room. I don’t feel safe. Even as the resident charity case, that’s unacceptable.
“Madame Usher?” I knocked. “I need to report something. Some of the students broke into my room last night and wrote things on my walls.”
Scuffling sounded inside the room. I pressed my ear to the wood as a faint voice hissed something. There were a couple of dull thuds, then footsteps padded toward me.
The door flung open. Madame Usher blocked the door, her eyes blazing. “What did I tell you?”
“Yes, but—”
“I don’t care if the house is burning down around us or a flying saucer lands on the roof, youdo notdisturb me. This would be grounds for expulsion, but on account of our arrangement, I will give you a second chance.” She glared at me. “Don’t do it again.”
“Wait. I—”
The door slammed in my face.
