Like a puppet cut from its strings, she tumbles off the chair. My heart skips a beat.
Mia gropes to cushion Elodie’s head, but the smack of her shoulder hitting the tiles carries through the cafeteria. More people hush, staring in her direction.
“Someone get a nurse!” Stella calls out, crouching next to Elodie.
I’ve taken a couple of steps toward her before I catch myself. What the hell doIthink I’m going to do?
Elodie didn’t want my help. She wanted me to leave her alone.
But I can’t shake the memory of the other words she said to me, just yesterday.
“I think someone is looking for ways to hurt me.”
Is this proof that they succeeded? What have they done to her?
My gaze darts around the cafeteria as if I’ll spot someone with a neon sign beamingGUILTYover their head. All the faces in my view look confused or, at most, curious.
No triumph or satisfaction. No guilt.
Could she simply be sick? It’s odd timing but not impossible.
My sweep of the room stalls on the staff monitor posted just inside the door. The man in his official black suit is supposed to leap in to intervene if someone sets off a nasty bit of sabotage or anything else the administration wouldn’t turn a blind eye to.
He should be either running to Elodie’s side or dashing to the health center. Instead he’s just… standing there. Hands in his pockets, head turned toward the buffet table like he hasn’t even heard the commotion.
What the fuck?
Nausea wraps around my gut. I push myself forward, toward the monitor rather than Elodie.
He seesmecoming. At my approach, he shifts his stance slightly so he’s facing me. His expression shows nothing but bland acknowledgment.
I jab my hand toward Elodie’s table. “Why aren’t you helping her?”
He blinks at me, not even following my gesture. “Helping who? Is something wrong, sir?”
Is he fucking kidding me?
A frigid current winds around my gut. How could he not have noticed already… unless someone cast a little magic around him to deflect his attention?
Which would suggest that whatever’s afflicted Elodie is definitely foul play—and her attacker wants to delay anyone from assisting her for as long as possible.
What’ll happen if she doesn’t get help soon?
Since pointing didn’t work, I grasp his arm and tug him around. Several more people have jumped up around Elodie. Salvatore is stalking between them, all flexing muscles and ominous scowl.
Stella’s voice breaks through the concerned murmurs. “She isn’t waking up! We need someone from the health centernow.”
Whatever subtle spell Elodie’s assailant cast on the monitor, it isn’t strong enough to stick when he’s looking right at the problem. The color drains from his acne-scarred cheeks. He whips the walkie-talkie from his belt as he strides over. “This is Souza in the cafeteria. There’s a student down in bad condition—we need an emergency intervention fast.”
A flicker of relief passes through me, but my body stays tensed. I remain where I am, watching from a short distance, as two nurses rush into the room. A siren wails beyond the academy’s walls.
The emergency responders carry Elodie out on a stretcher, her body sprawled limply across its surface. Her eyes are closed, her skin leached of its usual golden warmth, but I think I catch her chest rising with a halting breath.
She’s still alive. That’s what matters the most, right?
Only it looks an awful lot like someone was attempting to accomplish the opposite.
Who would want tokillElodie Devine?
