Page 61 of The Headmistress

Magdalene actually growled, and Sam bit her lip trying to hide a stupidly smitten grin.

“You were locked in there with me, by the way. Are you sure I was the intended victim? We’ve been down this road before. And the attacks have been targeting you.”

“Sam, the fact that I was with you is pure coincidence. If you hadn’t told me you’d be in the attic, I would have had no reason to go there. You’d have been all alone in the fire. And who the hell knows if you would have had the strength to break down that door by yourself.”

Sam considered Magdalene’s words, but it still felt surreal somehow. However, it was what came next that she was absolutely unprepared for.

“Orla will be picked up as soon as she’s been located.”

“What?” Her face probably showed the shock she was feeling.

Her lover paced away from the bed, and despite her total astonishment and the sheer awfulness of the news, Sam couldn’t help but realize how strangely uncomfortable Magdalene seemed with the conversation.

“Orla was supposed to be with Amanda. She never showed, and several people saw her running towards town and away from the school around the same time you and I found ourselves locked in the attic. She’s currently missing.”

“But—”

“No buts, Sam, she threatened you just a few weeks ago. George overheard her telling you to think twice before going up against her.Just weeks ago. I could kill her myself. You are sitting here with a split temple and burns on your shoulders. You could have died, you hear me, you could have died, and for what? To oust me from the school? To continue a ridiculous vendetta against me and my reforms and my efforts to keep the fucking school alive? I’m not even going to delve into how absolutely everyone at the school was in danger. What if we hadn’t been successful with the evacuation? What if...” By the time she stopped speaking, her face was an amalgam of anger and fear.

“Come here.”

“Sam, don’t patronize me.”

“Come here. I need you to hold me.”

Magdalene’s shoulders finally slumped, and she went into Sam’s open embrace, sighing as she burrowed in. She was shaking faintly.

“You don’t play fair, darling. You could have been killed because of me.”

“Shhh. Just hold on to me.” Sam ran her hands up and down the slim shoulder blades, like delicate wings, thinking how fragile Magdalene was. How easily hurt, how lucky they both were to have escaped with only bumps and bruises. But she couldn’t muster any anger. Just grief.

If what Magdalene was telling her was true, Orla—her mentor and her friend—tried to kill her because she dared to pick the opposite side? Yes, their last encounter had been beyond acrimonious, but this was going way too far. It made absolutely no sense. Yes, Magdalene had presented her with a very compelling case against her former headmistress, but something kept tugging at Sam’s consciousness, a loose thread she felt if she could only manage to unravel, she’d find the answers she was looking for. Answers they all were looking for.

“I’m sorry.”

The whispered apology from Magdalene was so unexpected, Sam thought she’d hallucinated it, but the fingers that curled around her neck stopped playing with the strands of hair that had gotten out of her braid, and Sam knew she had heard right.

“What for?”

Eyes more blue than amber looked at her with barely concealed pain.

“I know what she means to you. Both her and Joanne. They raised you, it’s very difficult to believe…”

“Sweetheart, let’s not go there. I have my doubts, and I don’t want to waste our time together arguing about whether a woman who was like a mother to me wanted to burn me alive.” It sounded clinical and forced even to her own ears, and Magdalene’s incredulous stare seemed to confirm as much, but Sam could not allow herself to go there, could not yet fully process what had happened and how it all could have been caused by Orla.

Magdalene caressed her cheek and thankfully decided to move on to other subjects.

“Of course, there’s no need to hash this out now. We have all the time in the world, Sam.”

That old chestnut. Magdalene and her stubborn insistence that they could now be out and in the open. Sam wanted to throw something.

“Okay, explain to me how Orla’s alleged assassination attempt changes your situation at the school?”

“Oh Sam, you care too much about too many, and least of all about yourself. Darling, first of all, there is not much left of the school. The Main Hall, half the quad, and all three dormitories are kindling. We are sending the girls away, some are still waiting for their parents to come to pick them up, but the majority are going home, and we will work to find them placements at other schools in the area. From where I stand—and Joanne agrees with me—the old dormitory by the chapel that we were setting up for the Science labs and guest faculty can house up to twenty seniors and we can teach them there as well, if they choose to remain. But mostly this year, and maybe even the next, the school will either find the funds to rebuild or close its doors forever. So for what it’s worth, and many many other things aside, you worry for nothing. I’m not giving up my career for you.”

“And she won’t have to if I have my say.”

Alden’s voice, simultaneous with a quick knock on the door, jolted Sam out of Magdalene’s embrace. But before she could push the Headmistress away and somehow still save everyone’s face and continue the pretense of them being nothing but colleagues, Magdalene simply held her closer and said, “Come in, Stanton.”

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