Overall, the others determine that Anton knows what’s best. If he says it was time for Lennon Rose to leave, then it must be true.
But Sydney and I are destroyed, almost like we can physically feel a piece of us missing. Marcella stares at her hands folded on the table, sniffling every so often as Brynn comforts her. Annalise stares out the window again.
It’s Valentine, sitting across from me, who catches my attention. She meets my eyes, and then there is the slightest turn of a smile on her lips.
“Everything’s going to be fine, Philomena,” she says calmly. “You’ll see.” And then she stands up and leaves the dining hall.
As the other girls go back to their rooms for self-reflection, I decide to track down Anton. I need to talk to someone about the crushing pain in my chest. The loneliness. Who better than the analyst?
I don’t see him in the halls, so I head straight for his office, relieved when I see his light on inside. I knock softly on the glass.
“Come in,” Anton calls with a hint of surprise.
I open the door and find him at his file cabinet. His face tightens when he sees me, but then he smiles.
“Philomena,” he says, closing the drawer. “What can I do for you?”
His question seems odd, considering the circumstances. “I’m here about Lennon Rose,” I say.
“I should have figured,” Anton replies, a little embarrassed, and goes to sit behind his desk. “You want to talk about how you’re feeling.”
I nod, and he motions for me to sit down in the oversized leather chair across from his desk. I cross my legs at the ankle, not resting back the way I usually do during our therapy sessions. This time is different.
We sit in silence until Anton leans forward on his elbows. “Should I start, or...?” he begins, and his lips pull into a smile. Normally, I appreciate his casual demeanor, but in this situation, it feels inappropriate.
“I can be honest with you, right?” I ask. The smile fades from his lips.
“Of course,” he responds. He leans forward in his chair, his elbows on the table.
“I’m worried about Lennon Rose,” I say. “You told me she was going to be better than new, that she was just resting. You didn’t mention money. Her parents didn’t mention money. So... what really happened?”
Anton watches me for a long moment and then eases back in his chair. “I’m sorry,” he says. “But I can’t discuss the specifics of another girl’s education with you.”
“Why was she crying during lineup yesterday?” I ask, undeterred.
“Because she’d just learned about her family’s financial situation,” he responds easily.
I furrow my brow. “How?” I ask. “When? She didn’t mention any—”
“I told her,” he cuts in. “So I assure you, she knew. Perhaps she didn’t want to tell you.”
The thought stings. Lennon Rose was keeping a secret from me? From us? Then again, she’d been talking to Valentine—maybe she told her. Anton must notice my confusion, so he continues talking.
“I suspect Lennon Rose was embarrassed about her situation and had hoped to resolve it without your interference,” he says. “But unfortunately, despite all I could do, there wasn’t enough money to fund her education any longer. She left this morning before you woke up. She told me to tell you goodbye.”
I look up at him. “You talked to her?” I ask.
“Of course,” Anton says. “I walked her out myself.”
“With the Guardian?”
He shakes his head no. “Guardian Bose was supervising the floor—doing his job. I’m the only person who spoke with her. She will miss you.”
I swallow hard, noting the discrepancy between Anton’s and Dr. Groger’s descriptions. The doctor told me the Guardian walked Lennon Rose out.
Anton closes his eyes and slips off his glasses. He seems exhausted, and I notice for the first time the dark circles under his eyes, like he hasn’t been sleeping.
“Mena,” he says, his voice soft like he’s whispering a secret. “I’m going to confide something in you, understand?”
