Sumner glares as I leap up and make my way over to him. “We can’t move these,” I explain. “He just meant go sit over there…”
My sentence trails off as I catch a glimpse of Ellerby through the bay window directly behind Enzo. She’s not alone. An older gentleman in a chestnut suit walks alongside her. He’s not an instructor here. Nothing about him seems recognizable, and yet, there’s something unnerving about someone dressed as sharply as him visiting Ivernia on a quiet Saturday.
Before I can process what I’m doing, I launch myself toward the library’s exit and burst into the bright afternoon daylight.
Ellerby guides him along the paved walkway that hugs the administration building, ivy clinging to the exterior’s smooth stones. My footsteps are light as I stay several yards behind them, tucking myself behind grand pillars when they pause for several seconds before moving on.
“Nearly one hundred and forty years of education,” I hearEllerby recite as they stroll through a covered archway. I follow. “One of the oldest institutions on the East Coast, though I imagine you’re aware.”
They roll into another halt by a gnarled oak tree near the building’s emergency exit.
“Hey,” a raspy voice barks from behind me. “What are you doing?”
I whirl around, eyes wide, reaching for Sumner’s wrist and yanking him into an overgrown bougainvillea bush before Ellerby can take notice. We press our backs against the wall, shoulder to shoulder. I drop his wrist like it’s pure electricity. His eyebrows fly up, but I only raise my index to my lips.
He stills. We both strain to hear the conversation.
“I know my grandfather had a vision for Ivernia School, but my vision for the property has never aligned with his,” the man’s saying.
“I understand,” Ellerby says civilly. “But there are certain structures in place to protect our students’ right to education.”
“This isprivateeducation.”
“Yes, and we have a board of trustees who finalize decisions based on the needs of our students.”
I swallow. This must be what Ellerby meant last night, and now I’m beginning to understand. It was never Ivernia’s decision to close. The decision is in the hands of who owns the land.
Next to me, Sumner’s chest rises and falls at a rapid pace. I feel equally worked up.
“Students’ educational needs are capable of being met elsewhere,” he argues. “The state department of education agrees with me. This is not a real school district. Not with the number of out-of-state attendees enrolled.”
“Precisely why it’s a boarding school,” Ellerby argues back. “One that centers the needs of academically gifted students who desire a concentration in science, math, and technology.”
“Everything I’ve seen today confirms this is a luxury, which is who I intend to cater to with its renovation.” He shakes his head. “This is a courtesy notice. I apologize if it’s not what you hoped from my visit.”
A steady ringing fills my ears. My fingertips go numb. I wanted to believe this wasn’t a real possibility, but it’s unfolding before my very eyes.
Sumner dips his gaze toward me, his fingertips catching his glasses before they skate down his nose. “Fuck,” he breathes.
A dry huff escapes through my nostrils.Fuckis the only correct way to describe this entire situation.
I close my eyes. Lean my head against the limestone wall behind me. “I didn’t want it to be true.”
A disruptive rustle of leaf and vine has my eyes flying open.
“Delaney,” Ellerby calls. “Sumner. You can come out now.”
10
Busted, I step from thebougainvillea, moving aside bright-pink petals as I reveal myself. Sumner follows. Now that we’re no longer cast with an obstructed view, I notice Ellerby is standing alone, arms folded across her thin lavender sweater.
“Should I even bother asking?”
“We heard most of it,” I admit.
Ellerby places one hand on her hip, the other on her forehead. “I didn’t need this today.”
“Who was that?” Sumner asks.
