Page 28 of The Headmistress

“This is a disgrace! The third one this week alone. Not to mention the dead rat we found in your rooms earlier. Maggie, this has got to stop!”

Undeterred by Sam’s utterly perplexed countenance, George deposited the wilted roses on the table right on top of the spreadsheet they’d been leaning over. But before Sam could ask what the hell was going on, Magdalene just waved Sam off with a careless shrug and a dismissive gesture.

“The Old Dragonettes have been making their feelings known about some of the reforms that I have announced. Let’s just say they are less than pleased. And even less civil in their retaliatory tactics. Dead flowers, dead rodents—”

“And what, they’ve been sending you rotting bouquets as a warning?” Outraged, Sam grabbed the flowers, looking for any indication that they had a note or a clue as to the sender. “This is harassment!”

“No more than Orla accosting me every day over breakfast to push me to rush my decision about scholarships or the English curriculum. This is just a bit more gruesomely poetic than the constant bickering, don’t you think?”

“No, I don’t think there’s anything remotely poetic about this. At least Orla has the guts to tell you she hates your ideas to your face. This is cowardly!”

“Ah, so it’s okay as long as the insults are signed and delivered in person?” Magdalene’s laughter held no merriment.

“No, neither is okay, but Orla is being upfront. And what’s this about a rat?”

“Nothing. If anyone thinks that a poor imitation of The Godfather horse's-head-on-the-bed scene is going to intimidate me or keep me from doing the job they hired me to do, they are sadly mistaken.”

“Somebody put a dead rat in your bed? Headmistress, we need to call the police!” Shaking with fury, Sam could not find words to describe her inner turmoil.

“For all we know, it is Orla who has been putting dead critters in my bed, Professor Threadneedle. Have you thought of that? I knew I would end up regretting keeping her on staff even with a probationary period.”

“I don’t believe that for a second. Orla is one of the most upfront and honest people in the world.”

“Such adulation you bestow upon her, Professor.” The word and the tone were mocking, and they burned Sam like acid. The contrast between the woman who had been threading her fingers in her hair and sharing her breath moments ago, and the one going toe-to-toe with her right now—with sarcasm and derision—was stark.

“Orla Fenway would never do this, Headmistress. You said yourself, she’s been confronting you and fighting you left, right, and center every day. Why send you dead flowers or put dead animals in your room? And why would she even have access to your room?”

“Well, the first rat was found here in my office and I haven’t changed the locks since I started at Dragons.”

Sam flinched at the implication that, had Orla wanted to, she easily could have gotten a dead rat into Magdalene’s office. Still, there was absolutely no doubt in Sam’s mind that the former headmistress had nothing to do with whatever was happening here.

“How long has this been going on?”

“It started sometime after Lily sprained her ankle on those wet tiles.” Sam did not miss the inflection Magdalene had put on the way Lily had ended up on crutches. In the weeks that had passed since that incident, Sam had tried to find some sort of explanation to either the water on the floor or the suddenly out-of-order lights, but nothing reasonable had come to mind. With no further incidents, Sam had allowed herself to simply forget the weird chain of events that had led to the girl getting hurt. Perhaps she shouldn’t have.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“For all we knew, it could have been you, Sam.” George’s voice made both of them flinch. Sam had forgotten she was in the room with them. Judging by Magdalene’s expression, so had she, though she recovered quickly.

“George is joking.” Magdalene’s voice was gentle as she finally turned away from Sam and moved to look out the window into the pouring rain, pelting the glass in rivulets.

Sam looked from Magdalene’s ramrod straight back to George, who hastily amended. “Yeah, I’m joking, Sam, of course. But this is getting out of hand.”

“The police—”

“And what will we say?” George threw her hands in the air and stalked around the room. “That we are receiving wilted flowers? Hardly a crime.”

“Enough drama, George. Just throw these away. If more arrive, let me know preferably after you dispose of them. And let’s get the locksmith in here to change most of the locks in the school and dormitories. It might have been a mistake, taking some things on faith.”

Sam felt the words like a physical blow. Could Magdalene really suspect that she would do something like this?

George made a huge production of dragging the massive bouquet out of the office and shutting the door, but Magdalene did not turn from the window. Her shoulders suddenly seemed so fragile to Sam, slim and vulnerable, despite her rigid posture.

Sam approached her and they stood side by side, mirrored in the dark glass, looking at the storm outside.

“I would have never done… that.” Sam stumbled over the word, but Magdalene did not seem to notice, she simply shook her head.

“I never thought you would. That last comment about taking things on faith. It wasn’t about you. For as long as I can remember, I have always had this feeling of being stalked. Like I was prey to a wolf, that was simply taking its time before pouncing. Sometimes the sensation is so strong, I swear I could just turn around and see the animal looking at me from the shadows. I never simply leave things to chance. I should have changed those locks a long time ago.” Magdalene’s nose wrinkled in that characteristic manner as she went on. “But I never for one second thought it could be you. You hold very obvious leverage where I’m concerned. If you had wanted to really hurt me, scare me, or make me reconsider some things around here, all you had to do was use said leverage.” Her face reflected in the dark window was impassive, watching Sam with a cool, detached expression in eyes that were more glacial blue than warm amber.

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