took his first steps, said his first words. Cards from his first birthday party.
Then it ended.
With deliberate thoroughness she looked through the rest of the box but there was nothing else there about the child. It was as if his whole life was contained in that book.
Carefully, she put everything back, and returned the box to its hiding place.
Sylvain appeared in the door. ‘There is nothing in the desk. Have you found anything?’
She shook her head. ‘Nothing.’
He looked relieved and she didn’t blame him. Maybe it wasn’t Zelazny after all.
He motioned for her to follow him. ‘We should go then. This is a waste of time.’
Standing, she turned to follow him. As she did, she noticed
‘Just a second,’ she called after Sylvain. Opening the bottom drawer, she grabbed the book hurriedly to put it away. But as she lifted it something slipped from the pages and fell, hitting the wooden floor with a metallic jangle.
Instantly alert, Sylvain returned to her side. ‘What it is?’
Leaning down they both saw the small silver key gleaming against the dark floorboards.
‘Oh no,’ Allie whispered.
By the time they left Zelazny’s rooms it was after curfew. They’d put everything back precisely as it had been except for the key, which was tucked in the pocket of Allie’s skirt.
When everything was ready, Sylvain turned out the lights then stood with his ear pressed against the door, waiting for silence. After a moment, he pulled the door open a crack and peered out – the hallway was empty.
Silent as ghosts, they slipped into the long corridor.
They walked with purpose and speed but the door at the end of the corridor seemed a very long way away to Allie and she focused her gaze on it, willing it to come closer.
It seemed impossible to believe the spy was Zelazny. She still reeled from the idea. The key felt hot in her pocket, where she gripped it tightly in one hand. Zelazny helped to kill Jo? Zelazny, who was always trying to keep the school safe, keep Isabelle safe, who wanted everyone to follow all The Rules? Zelazny with his disappearing family and his neat-as-a-pin apartment… he helped to kill people for Nathaniel?
It didn’t seem possible. And yet… there was the key.
Still, lots of people had keys. There was only one way to know if this was the right key and they were on their way to find out. First, though, they needed to get out of the staff wing without being seen. It wouldn’t be at all unusual for a teacher to enter the residential wing at this hour. They could very easily be caught. And on this long, straight corridor there was nowhere to hide.
They were close to the end when they heard the unmistakeable sound of a door opening behind them. But neither of them flinched.
Without looking right or left, they walked with confidence, in perfect sync.
Whoever opened the door didn’t seem to notice them – no one called for them to stop.
Ten steps later they were at the door and through it. They’d made it out.
They slipped past the marble statues and down the broad, empty hallway. All the students were in the dorms now. Most of the lights had been turned off. In the dimness they moved like two shadows across the polished oak floors.
They didn’t stop until they reached Isabelle’s office.
Standing in front of the familiar carved door – looking like any two students at any school in front of any headmistress’s door – they knocked and waited. When nobody answered, they exchanged a glance.
Allie pulled the small, innocuous-looking key from her pocket, and with a steady hand slid it into the lock. It turned smoothly. They both heard the lock click as it gave.
Turning his head away, Sylvain bit his lip. Allie could sense his bitter disappointment. He’d really believed in Zelazny.
Tentatively, she rested her hand on his shoulder, trying to tell him without words she knew how he felt. That she shared the awful, sinking sense of betrayal.
He lifted his head to meet her gaze and, for the first time in a long time, she felt again the power of the connection that existed between them. The feeling took her by surprise – like a sudden bright light in a dark room.
Reaching up, he rested his hand on top of hers.
The sound of soft footsteps shattered the moment. Sylvain’s grip tightened and he held her gaze. She nodded very slightly to show she’d heard it too.
She took one silent step into the shadows under the stairs behind him. He didn’t let go of her hand.
The footsteps approached them slowly. From the sound they made, Allie could make out two walkers – one had a heavier tread than the other. They didn’t speak. Only when they reached the foot of the stairs did she see them – black-clad, stealthy, professional.
Guards.
In front of her, Sylvain was utterly still, watching their every move.
The guards walked by their hiding place without seeing them. At the foot of the grand staircase they turned and began to climb. Looking up, Allie listened to the creak of the steps as they walked to the first floor and turned down the landing towards the classroom wing.
When they were out of sight, she turned back to Sylvain. He was watching her, a smile curving the corners of his lips.
‘You are getting very good at this,’ he whispered, looking both proud and regretful.
‘I know,’ she said.
TWENTY-FOUR
The next morning at dawn, Allie stood in the garden, rain dripping into her eyes, whacking the mud hard with her shovel as she tried to make the furrow in front of her deeper and straighter.
One row over, Carter was doing the same thing only faster and better.
The rain had been falling for half an hour – an icy, relentless drip of misery. It was such a pointless waste of time – here they were doing detention when they could be inside the school finding the spy. And not freezing to death.
Muttering to herself, she pulled the edges of her wet woollen hat down, wishing she could pull it over her whole face.
She stopped for a second to watch Carter work. Having grown up on the school grounds – he was essentially raised by Mr Ellison – he was much more practised than her and yet he never got very far ahead of her. She had the feeling he was pacing himself to stay near her. And yet he hadn’t said a single direct word to her all morning.
It was driving her crazy.
Last night with Sylvain had really made her think things through. Things were different with Sylvain from the way they’d been with Carter.
Sylvain seemed to have absolute belief in her ability to do things well. He made her feel confident. After the guards had left they’d sneaked back to their respective dorm wings in a hurry. There hadn’t been a chance to talk. But that moment in the corridor – when their hands had touched… Thinking about it made her heart flutter in her chest. How could something as simple as the touch of a hand affect her like that? But then he always could. Sometimes, before Jo died, all Sylvain had to do was look at her and she fell to pieces.
