Page 51 of The Obedient Lie

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Hair clips scattered on the desk.

Now it was sterile.

Clinical.

She even pulled her toothbrush out of her bag like it was temporary?—

like she wasn’t planning to stay.

I stared at the ceiling, my chest tight.

We didn’t speak of the rumors.

Not out loud.

The whispers that she’d been sleeping in the library.

That she’d moved all her things into the old drama hall and made a bed out of stage curtains and dusty costumes.

That she hadn’t gone home once in weeks.

Just drifted.

Invisible.

Like a ghost trying not to haunt anyone.

But she wasn’t a ghost.

She was the one who brought fruit platters and croissants.

The one who folded our clothes when we left them in the dryer too long.

The one who tried so damn hard to make us feel less broken,

even when we didn’t deserve it.

Now, all we had was silence.

She turned over, her back facing both of us.

I couldn’t help it?—

I looked.

Her shoulders twitched like she was trying not to cry.

Or maybe she was just breathing quietly.

I couldn’t tell anymore.

Bastion finally laid down too.

Still as a statue.

She didn’t speak.

Neither did we.

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