Page 114
“Your brain seems to be working after all,” Harlow remarked theatrically, shook her head, and walked to the whiteboard, where boring topics were already listed.
Some students actually managed to stifle their laughter. Quatura. Of course.
“Let’s begin. We left off with the significance of the marginal rate in microeconomics…”
The students opened their notebooks and folders, because this woman also banned iPads and laptops used for academic purposes, which Miles got upset about every morning.
Harlow emphasized the importance of neat handwriting, which we should all have, and she said this would be good practice for the exams.
I was already looking forward to failing just because that know-it-all witch couldn't decipher my handwriting... or didn't want to.
“The marginal rate of transformation is an important term in economics and describes the concept of how the production of two goods in an economy can be shifted efficiently. It refers to the amount of one good that must be given up to produce an additional unit of another good, while all other factors are held constant. If you...”
A crackle in the speakers drowned out her voice.
“If you...”
Once again, her words were swallowed up by a static noise, and she looked down at her microphone, frowning.
“God, why isn’t this useless thing working anymore!”
A few students laughed, and a beeping sound rang out, causing some to cover their ears.
“What’s wrong with this useless technology?!”
I grinned amusedly at Miles, who whispered something to Adrian before looking at me and shaking his head, rolling his eyes.
Harlow fumbled with her microphone, and another beep sounded, only this time combined with the static noise, until it fell silent.
Harlow's face turned red and she ripped the mini microphone off her blouse.
On the huge high-tech board, the white image and text disappeared and everything went dark before a purple glowing symbol with jagged edges flickered on the now black screen.
It looked like branches forming an... eye.
Secret (Pretty Little Liars: The Perfectionists Theme)
Denmark + Winter
“Students of Vanderwood University,” a deep, technically distorted voice suddenly boomed.
Harlow’s head shot up toward the speakers, and the entire hall fell silent.
“Do you remember me?” the voice asked in amusement.
Whispering began, and everyone looked up at the speakers.
“I am The Eye.”
With every silent second that passed, the tension in the hall grew. The air seemed to be crackling.
“And now you're going to listen to me carefully.”
“What the hell is going on here?!” Harlow burst out, looking around and frantically scanning the ceiling.
“Not so long ago, Vanderwood was a place of free expression,” the voice sounded again, and I finally managed to look at Julie, who was also staring at the ceiling. “A place where people enjoyed spending their time. A symbol of the town we live in.”
Harlow now scanned the crowd of confused students. “Which one of you...?!”
