“What do you think they’ll do?”
“For a first infraction? Nothing dramatic. Does she have pets?”
I shook my head. “Just the brothers. No point in hurting them—she’d think that was hilarious.”
“A fingernail, then. No warning.”
I imagined the footpath at night, Cyrus with a pair of needle-nosed pliers. A grab of the wrist, a quick jerk.
No time for accusations or explanations.
“Fine,” I said, and pulled out my family phone. “See you at dinner?”
“Not till later. I have something off campus.”
I looked up, expecting more.
He didn’t give it. “Physics has a party tonight. Should be done by eleven.”
“Sure.” The Physics Lounge had comfortable couches, and science parties always stocked lots of the cheap wine Sebastian liked.
“Midnight Physics exam, then,” he said with a wave, and I felt an ache of loneliness as he walked away.
Veronica picked up on the second ring.
“Faraday had an issue with her little brother,” I began. “She pulled a wrack on him.”
“And how did she know such a thing existed?”
“The business partner,” I said, realizing that there were several infractions to be punished here.
I answered Veronica’s questions honestly, without emotion—even when she asked if Faraday was likely to repeat her transgression. I walked in circles around the empty, smoky Quad, not wanting to bring this conversation into the purified air of Lavernick.
“Well done,” Veronica said as she ended the call, something she rarely told me. Did she know I wanted reassurance? That this phone call had cost me something?
I couldn’t be alone. I decided to work in the Sun Parlor, which was always crowded since the fires. Drinks at Riley’s Bar with Regina and Kumar, then dinner together in the Senior Commons. Leopold haddeclined to join us, nervous about being seen in public with other carers. Poker with the girls until I went to see Sebastian.
Any spare moments could be filled by texting Tom about what Faraday had done. He’d be amused—until he saw her missing fingernail, or black eye, or limp. Or would that only amuse him more?
I climbed the stairs of Lavernick to get my books and laptop. The top-floor hallway was empty, the girls mostly still in bed this early.
But when I reached my door, I froze.
On the knob, dangling from its silver chain, was the crow skull Sebastian had given me.
I stood therea long time.
It should have been incinerated, along with Jessica Anderson’s clothes, her bone collection, everything she’d ever owned. Garrett would never keep evidence.
I reached for the skull, held it in my hand, as light as paper. In one of the photographs in the media, the skull was faintly visible around Jessica Anderson’s neck. I’d worn it on my first date with Hiromi, the closing night of Chef Sam’s restaurant.
Was this a test? Erasure without care?
I could crush it, but my hand didn’t close. The empty eye sockets stared at me. The plague-doctor beak, black with keratin, sharp as a needle against the flesh of my palm.
I lifted the necklace and placed it around my neck, just to feel the skull’s gentle weight—
—and it was summer again. The heat baking the black tar roof of Hiromi’s studio. The growl of window air conditioners, the earthy scent of public compost bins, the rush of air through the street grates when subways passed beneath.
