Page 31 of Into Ruin

“Ms. Shay?”

I jerk.

My photography professor stands at the front of my row. “You okay?”

I slowly look around the rest of the room, and my body goes hot when it registers there’s not a single other person remaining.

“Oh, gosh, I’m sorry, Professor.” I scramble to flip my notebook shut and collect the assortment of pens I was using… until, apparently, my mind wandered enough that I missed the end of the lesson. “Don’t know where my head went.”

She chuckles. “It happens to the best of us. I got a little long-winded at the end anyway. Once students get a glazed look to their eye, I know to wrap it up.”

“I really like this class.” Everything sufficiently gathered, I swing my bag over my shoulder and pause at the front of the room. “I’m looking forward to trying out the technique we’ve been going over recently.”

While we’ve barely dug in for the semester, I’ve been intrigued by the methods Professor Bianca has introduced.

My rented camera was previously stored in my desk drawer in my dorm room. Then wrapped in eighteen layers of clothing. Then, carefully placed in the closet.

Now, it is back in its case in my backpack. We bring them in on Mondays and do a sort of show-and-tell at the beginning of the class. I didn’t have much to show, just some landscapes that seemed dull in comparison to the other students’ photos.

My professor sees me to the door and pauses. “For this upcoming week… if you don’t mind me suggesting this, Harper, perhaps you could return to what you originally said you liked? Portraits, if I’m not mistaken?”

I frown. “I… could.”

Olivia has often been my subject, so I could ask her. Speaking of—I spot her through the doorway, leaning against the far wall with her bag at her side.

“Word around campus is you’re related to one of our hockey players,” Professor Bianca adds. “Not that I get caught up in student gossip, but I’ve always found a personal touch can help inspiration.”

I nod slowly, imagining how asking Royal to pose for me would go. Probably not too well. I suppose I’d have to cave and return to the hockey house for that to happen.

“I’ll think on that. Thanks, Professor.”

14

CAMDEN

Harper is gone.

We returned home from the hockey game late on Saturday. It was practically Sunday morning, at that point. The video had been posted. But her room, herbed, was empty.

Then empty Sunday night, too, with no trace of her throughout the day.

Royal said something about her shopping with Olivia, but that didn’t seem to hold water when the sun set, and his sister did not come waltzing in through the front door.

I know because I was hunkered down in the living room, with my gaze on the front windows, for most of the day.

Now it’sWednesday, and I’m getting sick of looking in at her empty room. She’s been back to her room at least once—on Monday night, I snuck in to find her previously rumpled bed made, neat as a pin—but I haven’t run across her.

It’s fucking frustrating. I wanted a reaction—I wanted assurance she wouldn’t talk to her brother. I wanted to twist the knife a little bit.

And she decides to remove herself from the equation?

My anger builds upon itself. Each time I think about her, each time I check for her, it spikes. The shots of adrenaline havebeen messing with my sleep. My eyes feel like sandpaper. I was playing catch up from our late Saturday, and I only seem to be getting farther behind.

Why can’t she just follow the fucking rules?

I rub my face.

I sit through class, forcing some modicum of will power to pay attention to the professor, and when it ends, I bolt. The Administration building is too warm. Too full of bodies pressing close. I trot down the wide, marble stairs, around and around until I hit the ground floor, and exit onto the quad.

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