CHAPTER ELEVEN

A slight gurgle escapes in my throat as I struggle in the silence. My ears seem to hear only the thumping of my heart, which sends me into a panic. The footsteps! I have to listen to the footsteps! My distress only causes my heart to beat harder and faster. It taunts me, my own heart the cause of such terror. The frustration nearly causes me to cry out. I look down each corridor frantically. What did I do wrong?

And then there is an off-step in my heart. An extra beat, it seems at first, but then my ears manage to discern the sound from another source. One … I say in my head, my heart slowing and the heat in my blood slowly cooling. Two … I close my eyes, preparing myself to spring with the final sound. I hesitate in between when I remember the inner conflict. Maybe it was actually four. What if I’m wrong? But it seems that my heart can’t wait any longer. It has me taking off toward the hallway ahead, slightly to my left. As I run I manage a glance to my right, where the shadow of the guard plays upon the opposite wall as he makes his final steps into the hallway. I was right! But I don’t hear the fourth step or any other for that matter. I’m already in the next hallway, and a new set of numbers begins to play in my mind.

I reach the corner of a hallway that’s perpendicular to this one. In my mind I have reached ten. By twelve I will hear a new set of feet. Eleven, twelve … The echo of a guard entering and crossing through to another hallway can be heard. By the fifth step I cover the last part of the hallway to my room as quietly as possible. I reach the pale door.

I grab the handle and, before entering, allow myself a sigh of relief. I made it. Now I have to convince Lenora. It won’t be easy. I turn the knob. I open the door in complete silence. I force my breathing to be calm and even. From somewhere inside me, I find her, the other me. I thought she was completely gone. But somehow I do.

Cross-legged, Lenora’s wraithlike form takes up less room than the four open books that surround her on her bed. She blends into the white, almost disappearing. Even her blond hair seems to have absorbed the paleness of her skin. She looks up with ghostly eyes that startle my breath away. They seem transparent, yet they see straight through me.

“Where have you been, Oriana?” Her voice is a rush of air, and the force behind it causes me to blink. My skin turns cold beneath her icy stare, and I can’t disguise an uncontrollable shiver.

Without answering I begin to busy myself with something on my desk, not wanting to look back at the cold mask on Lenora’s face.

The silence becomes unbearable. I attempt a response, “I …,” I begin, but my mind goes blank. Finally, I gain control and take a breath, clearing myself of emotions. I realize it’s the only way to survive. Lenora might be conveying anger, but she is in complete control of what her body conveys. I cough to maybe cover up the previous short-lived statement. My back is now facing Lenora so I will not have to experience her reaction; her body lies anyway.

“I was having another one of those fits. Luckily I managed to explain to a part-blood to get me the water from my bag.” I glance at her from the corner of my eye. She is motionless. “Then I spent the night at the medical center.” By saying it was a part-blood I will be excused from any explanation about who it was, and that will save me a lot of trouble. A pureblood is not expected to know a part-blood by name; most don’t bother to learn or remember.

“Where is your bag?” Lenora asks, stone-faced.

“My … my bag?” I look around, holding my breath, hoping it has somehow sprouted legs and followed me here. “I must have left it at the medical center.” I shrug, but it seems more of a cringe.

In a flash I see Lenora’s demeanor change. There is a clever smirk curving at the edges of her lips.

“Oh,” she replies with a fake surprise ringing in the word, “well, that’s odd.”

“What’s the matter?” I ask, feigning nonchalance by slouching on my bed and writing some nonsense into a notebook.

“Oh, well.” Lenora seems to act as though I had shocked her out of deep thought. Her reactions are flawless. I know she’s really just waiting for my response so she can pounce. I hear a whisper of movement, and I look up. Our eyes meet squarely; she doesn’t blink. “Oriana, the first place I looked was at the medical center. You weren’t there the whole day.”

I freeze. My hand stops writing, my muscles are too tense to move. Lenora is silent, letting it sink in. My mind is racing but not with ideas, only the instinct to run and escape. Yet my body is planted on my bed, fear cementing it there.

“Lenora, I … passed out for a while … I don’t …” My jaw is shaking, and my hands are fumbling with the pen and book. They finally drop to the floor lifeless. I look at them with envy.

Lenora gets up from her seat on the bed. “Excuse me for a moment, would you?” she says sweetly, sliding porcelain feet into white slippers.

“Where … where are you going?” I try to act as though the answer doesn’t interest me by staring into the words on my notebook, words whose meaning I can’t seem to discern.

“Bathroom,” Lenora states carelessly and slips out.

My brain is on fire. Should I leave? I think back to what Dorian said: “Just until the Rebirth.” He said I’ll be safe here; he said to wait. I take a breath and let it out slowly, hoping it will help keep my legs from carrying me straight out the door and back to the garden. There is a sinking in my stomach, a feeling that something is not right. I should leave … I should …

But time has run out. Lenora returns and shuts the door behind her carefully. I watch from the corner of my eye as she sits on her bed and lets her slippers drop neatly to the floor. I hold my breath as another silence takes hold of us. It seems to squeeze the life out of me.

“Oriana.” Lenora’s voice is a whisper, barely audible. “What really happened?”

“I told you … I—”

Lenora doesn’t waste any more time. “Oriana, don’t play dumb. I know you’re hiding something important from me. You’ve been acting so strange lately, ever since that night at the garden. That’s when this all started. You never were out that late before a big test.” Lenora is in turmoil and her face is flushed. She isn’t exactly yelling, but it seems as though her words are stabbing me harder than if she were. She doesn’t move or stand, just remains rigidly perched upon her bed.

I’m frozen in place, watching the storm that had taken over Lenora suddenly pass.

My eyes grow warm, and I recognize the tears. This is not a time to cry, but it’s hard to stop, to think, to breathe, when the emotions are so layered inside me. I’m realizing what a disadvantage they are. If only I could escape them, somehow release them from my body. I wish to tear them from within. They quickly transform into a boiling rage. The anger of my weakness burns up any tears, and I face her: my roommate, my friend, my enemy.

“Lenora, let me leave,” I reply calmly, steadying my voice. I’m almost impressed with myself.

Lenora, mouth gaping, shakes her head, “I can’t. You must tell me … I need to know. Why won’t you?”

Just then there is a knock on the door. I almost scream, “Who is that, Lenora?”

She doesn’t look at me or the door. Just shakes her head, “I can’t let you … you can’t go … this is how it should be … I am pureblood … I am a Winglet … I love Odon … he is everything … he is—”

“Who did you tell? Lenora! What have you done?” I scream and scream without anywhere to go. I can’t seem to find my way around the room, and the knock on the door has turned to a pounding in my ears. I can’t breathe, yet my screaming continues. The white of the room blinds me. There is a crash and thud as the door is kicked down.

The white gets brighter and brighter. It suffocates me and then swallows me up, starting at the tips of my golden hair.

A crowd of figures surrounds me. They are a blur of shadows in the white. I can’t make out their faces, but I don’t need to recognize them to know who they are.

Lenora is yelling behind me, begging me for answers.

I kick and yell in fury mixed with fear. They grab my arms, and I can’t move. Tears are streaming from my eyes and nose and choking me. There is a deafening thud as something cracks the back of my skull, and a sharp pain ushers me into darkness.