“Is that true?” I hear Letitia ask one of the other girls, shocked.
Marcella snorts a laugh and Sydney falls over, chuckling. The magazine’s version of reality has become our perfect inside joke.
“Wow,” I say like they’re all maniacs. But it feels nice to laugh. Earlier today, it felt like we might never laugh again. But we’ll get to talk to Lennon Rose soon, and then things will be closer to the way they used to be.
The door opens. Guardian Bose reenters, and everyone turns back to the movie like we’ve been paying attention the entire time. He smirks, but he doesn’t call us out. He brings the bowl over to Sydney, and she thanks him with an extra-big smile before he heads to the back of the room while we finish the movie.
I’m not worried about any of the girls telling the Guardian about tomorrow. They know I’d be punished severely—reprimanded and placed in impulse control therapy. They wouldn’t do that to me.
We all want to be happy, positive. And it’s what the academy wants for us.
There’s a loud explosion on the screen, and Annalise yelps. She laughs, embarrassed by her outburst. The other girls tell her to shush, and she halfheartedly apologizes and turns around to look back at me.
For a moment, I see Annalise with yellow hair swinging over her shoulder. Shiny brown eyes and red lips. I’m sure it’s her, although she’s not the same.
“I don’t know who I am, Philomena,” she whispers, clutching my arm. “Help me.”
The image is so startling, so... real, that I squeeze my eyes shut. I wait a moment, and when I look again, Annalise is a redhead. She’s staring at me with green eyes, her brow furrowed.
“You all right?” she asks. Several girls turn in my direction, and I quickly nod, trying to play it off.
“Yeah,” I say, my heart still pounding. “I... Yeah. I’m good.”
Annalise exchanges an amused face with Brynn and then goes back to watching the movie. But I’m altogether unsettled.
Annalise with yellow hair.
I’m almost scared to look, but I can’t stop myself from peering over to where Valentine is sitting. Her back is against the wall, her pillow laid over her lap as she watches the movie. She doesn’t seem riveted or bored—she’s poised. But when she slides her eyes in my direction, I flinch.
Her gaze cuts through me, at odds with her very proper exterior. It’s like she’s been waiting for me to look in her direction the entire time. She smiles. Alarmed, I move closer to Sydney.
And I don’t look her way again.
•••
At lights-out, we head back to our rooms. I keep Sydney close, unsure of what I saw earlier. Was that some sort of memory of Annalise? How could it be? Or maybe Valentine did something to me. Maybe she did something to Lennon Rose, too.
The idea is so outlandish that I don’t speak it out loud. Instead, I give Sydney a hug goodbye and watch as the girls go into their rooms. Just as I’m about to close my own door, I notice Valentine veer back into the hall and slip inside Lennon Rose’s room.
I ease open my door, my heart rate ticking up. What is she doing in there?
Guardian Bose is downstairs in the kitchen, but I glance toward his room anyway. The entire floor is quiet, with the exception of the shower turning on in Annalise’s room.
I walk to Lennon Rose’s door, but before I go inside, I imagine for a second that I’ll find her there. That Lennon Rose will be sitting on her bed, doing her nails. She’ll smile when I walk in and ask if she can braid my hair. There’s a tug on my heart.
Instead, when I open the door, Valentine immediately straightens from where she was bent over next to the bed. She spins to face me.
“What are you doing in here?” I demand. I caught her off guard, and Valentine’s normally serene expression betrays her shock. She recovers and smiles politely.
“I missed Lennon Rose,” she says easily. “Just like you.”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “That’s not it. Just tell me what’s going on. Because you’re really... You’re really freaking me out,” I admit.
She seems to contemplate her answer, biting her lower lip. “I’m sorry if I’m scaring you,” she says. “I didn’t mean to scare Lennon Rose, either.”
My cheeks heat up, anger boiling over. “What did you say to her?” I ask. “Why did you make her cry?”
Valentine holds up her hands in surrender. “That was never my intention. I just wanted her to wake up.”
