I knew he manipulated me but until George says it aloud, I never stopped to think why. Why he couldn’t just tell me I was taking over. Why he had to make it seem like an honour rather than a tiresome chore, like he was giving me something. A sleight of hand to ensure I didn’t notice what he was taking away.
She turns on my lap, straddling me and resting her brow against mine. “Why would he kill your brother? That’s what I don’t understand.”
I tense and she responds. “I know what you’re about to say but it wasn’t your idea. No matter what you did, it came from your father. He just used you as a… a delivery method.”
“A delivery method.” The description tickles me, a complete distraction from everything else flooding my brain. “That’s what you’re going with.”
“Mm-hm.” She pokes me in the collarbone. “Why? You have a better description?”
“Nope. I’m not saying anything.”
She giggles against my neck, and I hug her closer. If I put aside the change in my distress levels, George also seems a lot happier. Whatever crisis was going on a few minutes ago, aborted.
“Why would he kill Sean?” she asks again, the words puffing out softly against myskin.
“Because he was a disappointment.”
She stiffens, not to get away from me but in horror. “How c-could he—”
I stop the question with a kiss. My soul might be a few grams lighter right now but I’m nowhere near the state I’d need to be in to continue along the path raised by that question.
The warning bell sounds. Fifteen minutes until first lessons.
“Guess we better get ready, so you don’t lose that scholarship, huh?”
I’m listening out for another noise besides the bell. The one I arranged before going out on my job this morning.
A faint stir is coming from the lobby when I open my door. George hangs behind me, the crimson streaks high on her cheekbones a sign she’s nervous.
About me? I shake my head. If she was going to flee, surely it would have been in the split second after my botched confession. Besides, she grabs for my hand, squeezing it so hard I wonder if she thinks the security cars parked directly outside the entrance are here for her.
Maybe that is the answer because she’s dragging her feet, suddenly in no hurry to go anywhere. Her grip is so strong the bones in my hand feel like they’re being fed through a mincer.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Another thought strikes me. “Don’t worry, they’re not here for me.”
“I n-need to t-t-tell you something,” she whispers, dragging even harder on my hand, drawing me to a halt.
She’s all stiff joints and tense muscles. “What is it?” George opens her mouth, trying to say something, but it’s caught behind a tic, contorting her face.
When I try to draw her closer, to soothe her, she pushes me away. “C-Carrod c-c-c-came to…”
Carrod?
I hear the ice crackling again, straining and squealing as it moves about, shifting and collapsing under my weight, about to spill me into the cold, dark water.
An announcement comes over the loudspeaker. “Could all boarding students please assemble in the cafeteria? We’re searching the premises.”
The disembodied voice makes George’s face pale in terror.
Carrod came to… what? Breakfast? My room?
“George,” I whisper, jerking her arm. “What did Carrod do?”
But she lets go of my hand and strides along the corridor, almost running, heading straight for the two security officers standing inside the lobby doors. “Excuse m-me? Can I go to class? I’m a day student.”
She flashes her pass, but the head teacher holds up her hand, chatting briefly then waving her into the cafeteria. When I follow, the security guard forcibly directs me to a different table. All the students are segregated, sitting as distant from each other as the limited space allows.
George won’t meet my eyes.
