Goosebumps rose on Allie’s skin.
‘So,’ Isabelle continued, ‘Lucinda has decided to try something different. Telling people within the organisation what’s been happening here. Hoping that the attention will intimidate Nathaniel and whoever is working with him.’
This didn’t sound like the greatest plan. Allie crossed her arms across her chest.
‘Do you think it will work?’
Isabelle dropped her gaze. ‘I don’t know. You see, she’s in a bit of a situation right now – we all are. Nathaniel is trying to get high-ranking people within the organisation to side with him and help him force Lucinda’s hand. To make her change The Rules of the organisation in a way that could …’ She stopped herself. ‘Well. That could ruin everything. And Lucinda is trying to show these same people just how untrustworthy he is. How irrational his methods have been. How ruthless he can be. How dangerous.’ She sighed. ‘I know Nathaniel well, so I know he will stop at nothing. But some members of the board, they can’t see that. They just see him as somebody who says things they want to hear.’
‘You know so much about Nathaniel,’ Allie said, ‘do you know him personally? Or did you at some point? Who is he, Isabelle?’
The headmistress thought for a long moment before answering.
‘I did know Nathaniel very well, once.’ She spoke slowly, as if she were choosing her words with great care. ‘You see, Nathaniel is my step-brother.’
Allie froze. ‘What?’
‘And that’s why,’ Isabelle continued, ‘I understand what’s happening with you and Christopher. Because I’ve been through something like it myself.’
Allie felt betrayed. Why had Isabelle never mentioned this before? But she tried to focus on the conversation at hand. ‘Were you and Nathaniel ever … close?’
‘Once, a long time ago. But Nathaniel always wanted things he couldn’t have and he blamed me when he couldn’t get them.’
Allie stared at her blankly.
With clear reluctance, Isabelle explained. ‘When he died, my father left everything to me. The money, the houses, the companies. Everything. He thought Nathaniel was too unstable to be responsible.’ Her hand toyed with her glasses. ‘It is in the will that I must give Nathaniel a sizeable annual allowance – he’s well taken care of. But that didn’t matter to him. What mattered was the humiliation. The rejection. Nathaniel never forgave me for it. It’s that simple. And now he wants more.’
‘Isabelle.’ Allie’s voice was low. ‘What exactly does Nathaniel want?’
For a long moment the headmistress thought. When she spoke, her tone was resigned.
‘Everything.’
TWENTY-FIVE
When Allie thought about it, her life at Cimmeria Academy could be divided into clear epochs: before the summer ball, and after. Before Carter. And after.
And now: before Truth or Dare, and after it.
Before Truth or Dare, she was a nobody. An interloper.
After it? She was a star.
When she walked into a room, people turned to look. When she spoke, they listened attentively. People she’d never met before were incredibly polite.
Only those who knew her well weren’t affected.
‘This is ludicrous,’ Rachel said one day, after a star-struck junior student insisted on bringing Allie a cup of tea and a biscuit in the common room after overhearing her complain that she was hungry. ‘It’s going to go to your head.’
‘Or my arse, more like,’ Allie said, munching.
‘Oh, Allie, can I carry your books? Is there anything you’d like? Can I apply your lip gloss for you?’ Rachel simpered. ‘Your hair must be so heavy. Let me carry it for you.’
‘Don’t be jealous.’ Allie offered her half the biscuit, which Rachel accepted grudgingly. ‘It doesn’t suit you. Besides, it won’t last, will it?’
‘I bloody hope not,’ Rachel replied with her mouth full. ‘Although this biscuit is delicious. I wonder if he could get us some more.’
‘Wow, you corrupt so quickly,’ Allie said. ‘You’re like, “Instant Tyrant: all it takes is one biscuit”.’
‘Two,’ Rachel corrected her. ‘I’d become a tyrant for two biscuits.’
But only Rachel and Zoe could make her laugh right now. Jo was still angry with her. And the rest of her life was tension and fear. And sadness.
There’d still been no word from Christopher, despite his promise to get in touch with her again. And she still hadn’t told Rachel or Zoe what was really going on. She couldn’t tell Rachel, and Zoe was just a kid. As the weeks passed, though, not telling them grew harder, if only because she had nobody left to discuss it with.
And still she couldn’t cry. She hadn’t been able to since that day in the library with Carter. It was as if all her tears had abandoned her right when she really needed them most.
‘Something must be wrong with me if I can’t cry,’ she told Rachel. ‘Maybe I’m actually ill. I could have some disease.’
‘Sjögren’s syndrome.’ Unsurprised by this change of subject, Rachel, who hoped to be a doctor someday, didn’t look up from her advanced chemistry textbook.
Allie blinked. ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘It’s a disease where you can’t make tears.’ Rachel studied her critically. ‘But you haven’t got it.’