As Allie’s molecule began to make more sense, though, a disturbed murmur swept the room. Glancing around, Allie could see no obvious problem, but some students had left their tables and now gathered in clusters, whispering. A few of them ran from the room.
‘What’s going on?’ she said, mostly to herself.
‘Someone probably broke up with someone.’ Rachel kept working. ‘I can’t believe I didn’t know before now.’
‘You still don’t actually know,’ Allie pointed out.
‘Good point,’ Rachel said, half standing. ‘So if I go and ask…’
Then she saw something that made her stop talking.
Her footsteps silent on the Persian rugs, Katie was running across the room towards them, her vivid ponytail streaming behind her. She must have run a long way – she was breathless; her milky skin even more pale than usual.
When Katie reached them, she gripped the table so hard her knuckles turned white.
‘It’s started.’
THIRTY-ONE
‘Go.’
When Katie didn’t move, Allie shoved her hard.
‘Now!’
She almost shouted the word and the girl turned and ran without looking back at her.
Adrenaline poured into Allie’s veins, setting her pulse racing as she turned to Rachel. ‘Are you ready?’
Looking scared, Rachel took off her glasses and tucked them into her skirt pocket.
‘What about our things…?’ She gestured at the table in front of them, piled with books and papers and pens, all the normal accoutrements of student life.
‘Leave them.’ Allie’s tone was gentle. She needed Rachel not to panic. ‘They’ll be here when we come back.’
Rachel nodded as if this all made perfect sense.
The library was almost empty now.
‘Come on, Rach.’ Allie took a step towards the door. ‘We’ve got to bail.’
Still not moving, Rachel looked around the room. ‘Lucas.’
Allie took her arm. ‘He knows where to go. You told him. He’ll be there now. You have to trust him. OK?’
Taking an unsteady breath, Rachel nodded and straightened her spine. ‘Let’s go.’
Then they ran out of the room into the suddenly empty grand hallway and up the grand staircase, to where groups of confused students had clustered.
Through the windows on the landing they got a glimpse of the row of gleaming limousines, Rolls Royces and Bentleys outside, stretching as far as they could see.
Rachel blanched. ‘There are so many.’
‘There should be ninety.’ Allie’s tone was tense as her gaze swept down the row of dark cars. ‘Come on.’
Quickening their pace they ran down the hallway. A winding stone staircase led them down to the ancient cellar. As they hurtled into the coolness of the dim, stone room they found most of the others had already arrived. Zoe, Nicole and Sylvain were clustered in a tight knot, talking in urgent whispers.
‘There you are.’ Nicole looked relieved.
‘Where’s Carter?’ Allie asked.
Silence fell. Allie had the sickening sense that something was wrong.
It was Sylvain who broke the news.
‘He’s searching for Jules.’ Sylvain held her gaze steadily. ‘Her parents were among the first to arrive.’
The floor seemed to sway under Allie’s feet; she stared at him in horrified disbelief. ‘Jules…? No, that can’t be right.’
But even as she said it she knew it was true – he’d never get that wrong.
Raking her fingers through her hair, she tried to think this through. Carter had never once mentioned which side Jules’ parents were on. He’d never said a word about it. Allie had just assumed they supported Isabelle – the alternative was unthinkable.
With that, the awful reality of it all set in. Anyone’s parents could be out there. Panic made it hard for her to think.
‘Did Jules get away?’ Allie asked, trying to steady herself. ‘Did everyone get away? Do we know?’
‘We came down here right away so we don’t know what’s happening upstairs,’ Zoe said.
Next to her, Nicole looked worried. ‘Their arrival happened so quickly.’
The students who didn’t want to go should now be scattered in hiding places all over the campus. Isabelle, who was fully involved in the plan and had arranged its finer details, was probably telling some parents right now that she had no idea where their children were.
‘Someone should go up to keep an eye on things,’ Allie said. ‘Rachel and I are safe, we could both go.’
Rachel gave a tense nod, her dark hair bouncing against her shoulders.
‘You shouldn’t go alone,’ Sylvain said. ‘I’m safe. I can go as well.’
Looking down at her nails, Nicole hesitated just a little too long.
‘I will stay down here,’ she said at last. When they all turned to stare at her she gave a delicate shrug that pretended nonchalance she clearly didn’t feel. Her dark eyes betrayed her nervousness. ‘Just in case. I think my parents are… undecided.’
Zoe tugged on Allie’s sleeve insistently. ‘I want to come with you.’
Apprehension made it hard for Allie to breathe. It was too much – Zoe was so small. She was only thirteen.
‘Come on, Zoe.’ Allie’s tone was gentle; convincing. ‘It’s not fair to leave Nicole alone down here.’ When Zoe lifted her chin stubbornly, she tried a different tack. ‘Look, it won’t be for long. I’ll come back in a few minutes and we can switch. OK? We need to stick together.’
For a moment it looked as if Zoe might refuse, but then she relented, her shoulders drooping.
‘Sure,’ she said, jutting out her lower lip. ‘I’ll stay here and
‘All right.’ Sylvain turned to Rachel and Allie. ‘We must divide. I’ll take the boys’ dorm. Rachel, you take the girls’ dorm. Allie, you’re the main building – the library and common room – and try to find Isabelle. We’ll meet back here in twenty minutes precisely.’ He looked from one to another of them, his expression deadly serious. ‘Don’t be late. Don’t make us come and look for you.’
There were several ways into the cellar. Sylvain headed down a narrow corridor to a staircase leading to the main building. Allie and Rachel turned back to the staircase they’d come down earlier – it led straight to the girls’ dorm.
As they headed up the stairs, Nicole called after them. ‘Be careful.’
Her French-accented words echoed off the stone walls around them as they climbed.
Rachel and Allie ran all the way to the top of the dark, dusty staircase – the only sound their harsh breaths, the pounding of their feet on the uneven steps.
They emerged into the girls’ dormitory to find it a scene of utter upheaval. In the corridor girls were hugging each other and crying as male bodyguards and drivers in a variety of uniforms hurried them along with the barely controlled violence of riot police.
‘Get your things,’ one man in a black uniform barked at a twelve-year-old girl who cowered away from him, clinging to a friend’s hand, ‘or we’re leaving without them. It makes no difference to me.’
