Page 167 of Good Losers (Lochkelvin Academy)

“We go in there together,” he announces with a nod at Lochkelvin’s imposing bulk, before casting me a long, reassuring glance. He hooks an arm through mine, swift and possessive, before holding out the crook of his elbow. Finlay takes it at once.

On my other side, Luke threads his arm through mine, with Danny looping his through Luke’s. I’ve never felt stronger as I do then, surrounded by power and love, like it flows through each of our connected limbs similarly to last night.

“All for one and one for all,” Finlay murmurs, which earns a laugh from me.

With a nod from Rory, we ascend the stone steps of Lochkelvin.

Aside from the vast spotless statue of the tussling lion and unicorn, the entrance is empty. The dining hall is full of loud chatter, however, its thick doors ajar.

I dredge up every shred of confidence I have within me, and find to my surprise that I don’t have to search very far. We’ve had the summer of our lives. School is laughably small in comparison to the vibrant, glittering world we’d left behind and shared for those long, heady weeks.

Luke pushes open the door, and I swear everything stops. Heads swivel. Voices cease. I immediately spot Arabella, gaunt and red-eyed, her hair in one long plait down her back, her jaw dropping as she takes in the sight of us. Beside her, Li manages cool nonchalance, but her onyx eyes are sharp and lethal and almost mocking as they meet mine. The gremlins, always the noisiest of the bunch, are unusually quiet, watching us stride into the dining hall as a confidence-oozing fivesome.

And for a while it works. We’re so close to our seats at the long benches, the gap the gremlins have considerately assigned for us. They hadn’t known in advance how many of us would be returning for our last school year, and so the space is wide enough that an entire shinty team could be comfortably accommodated.

At the head table, Baxter and Moncrieff are sitting together, her face stern and disapproving, his thoroughly startled. He hadn’t expected this. He hadn’t expected Luke to return, the betraying researching jackass.

Then I glance to the left side of the table, and my step falters until it’s like I’ve tripped over a brick.

“Is that…?” Danny asks me, sounding nervous.

It is.

It is, and I don’t understand why.

I stare, making sure I’m not seeing things. But I’m not.

Because at the head table, sitting calmly beside Professor Hodgson…

…is my mother.

***