Page 103 of Kingmakers, Year Two

ZOE

Itried to see Ozzy and Miles while they were locked in the Prison Tower, but no one was allowed inside, no messages permitted.

The Chancellor interrogated Chay and me. We told him everything that Rocco had done since the very first week of school. It didn’t matter. All they cared about was Wade’s death.

The guilt is choking, crushing, suffocating me.

I can’t even apologize to Ozzy because he took his mother’s body back to Tasmania, and he won’t be returning to Kingmakers.

I write him letters, letters to his father, too.

He hasn’t responded. I don’t expect him to.

He already said what he wanted to say, in a note left on Miles’ bed, addressed to both of us:

It’s not your fault. Be safe and be well.

Neither Miles nor I believe it.

It is our fault.

We wanted what we were forbidden to have.

The mood at Kingmakers is somber and dark in the weeks following Mrs. Duncan’s death. None of the students had witnessed an execution before. We all knew the rules, but the reality was distant. Now it’s right in front of our faces. Fun and games are at an end.

People whisper as I pass. They stare at me.

I feel like I’m cursed.

Anyone who tries to help me is cursed, too.

I’m scared to be around anyone, even Anna and Chay and Cat. Especially Cat.

Now that Rocco has wounded Miles so successfully, shaming him and cutting away his best friend, I can’t help but fear that he’ll attack Cat next. He wants to isolate me from everyone I love. He won’t allow me any help or support.

He’s started following me again. He watches me everywhere I go. Always staring. Always smiling.

Chay is devastated by what happened to Ozzy, and even more unhappy that he’s gone. She begged him to stay at school, or at least come back in the fall, but he refused.

Since he left she’s fallen into a deep depression, stumbling to class barefaced and red-eyed, her hair in a tangled bun, a state in which I had never seen her even once before.

She’s developed a hatred for Rocco that almost surpasses my own. She always disliked him from their days in secondary school. Now she harbors a burning rage that frightens me, because I worry that she might act impulsively, given the chance.

Rocco is a plague unleashed by me.

There’s only one way to stop it.

Two weeks after Ozzy leaves, I visit Miles in his half-empty dorm room. As soon as he sees my face, he knows why I’ve come.

“Don’t,” he begs me. “Don’t say it.”

“I have to.”

I swore I wouldn’t cry, but something hot and wet is already running down both sides of my face.

“I can’t see you anymore,” I tell him.

Miles looks at me. He’s still thin from his week in the tower. I doubt he’s been eating since. Shadows mark his under-eyes and the hollows of his cheeks. His gray eyes look large and dark. Veins stand out on his arms and the backs of his hands.

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