Page 93 of Make Me Scream

“Why?”

“She was extremely talented,” he begins. “Mundell took her under his wing, like your roommate, but she struggled to handle the pressure. She appreciated Mundell but was intimidated by him, so she came to me for support. I gave her an outlet and comforted her. I’d like to think I did my best, but it wasn’t enough. Even Mundell did everything he could. It’s true. He begged her to see a therapist, on his dime. He offered her all the time she needed, to pay her expenses as long as it took.”

Why would Mundell advise me to ask about this woman if neither of them did anything wrong, and tried their best to help her?

“Did she blame either of you for what she did?”

“Both of us,” Lane says. “She left a note about not being able to handle disappointing her mentors.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“Gwen, I told her not to give up. I told her she was a brilliant artist, that she could never disappoint me or Mundell — that we’d be there for her, always. I thought we’d gotten through to her, that she was doing better. I couldn’t believe it when I read her note. It didn’t feel real.”

I get out my phone and Google Mundell Academy, Anne and suicide. Results appear immediately, mostly news articles.

Prestigious art school reeling from student’s death

Authorities rule student death a suicide, dismiss suspicions of foul play

Divers unable to locate body of Anne Nichols after third day of search.

“Fuck me,” I mumble. “They never found her?”

“Just her purse, on the Brooklyn Bridge.”

Shivering, I set down my phone.

It’s a tragic story, but was Lane really at fault? Even Mundell, apparently, had tried to help her. Why would he want me to bring this up? Did he think I’d be mad at Lane for not telling me about Anne sooner? Or maybe I’d be wary of a man whose last two girlfriends wound up dead or lost to the world? Was he implying that maybe it’s not a coincidence?

Unless…

“Did you tell them who you really are?”

Without hesitation, Lane replies, “No. They weren’t interested in… him. You’re the first person to like him and still want to have anything to do with me.”

I half-smile. That’s not a shock.

“I tried to get Mundell to retire,” Lane says. “Last night. I offered to resign and not make trouble if he agreed to go too. He did not accept. And I did punch him, but not hard enough to break his nose. I promise you, Gwen, he was exaggerating.”

I nod.

Maybe it’s true. Mundell wore that bandage as if he was proud of it.

“So what now?” I ask.

Lane gets out his wallet and leaves a few bills on the table.

“Now I find a way to ruin him,” he says, standing up to go. “You can either stay out of it and hope Rush doesn’t decide to expel you, or you can help me.”

I follow him out, my blood pumping hot.

“Can’t you leave it alone?” I ask, practically jogging to keep up with Lane as he weaves around pedestrians. “If you ruin him, you’ll hurt Mundell Academy, which will destroy me and Joel and everyone else associated with the place.”

Did I misjudge Mundell? Yes, he’s used his money and influence to shut down my art, but if that’s the worst thing he’s done… It’s hard to be the adult here, but Lane’s not going to do me any favors by provoking Mundell.

“I told you, I can’t let him win,” Lane says, picking up his pace.

“Why not? You’re more successful as an artist than he’ll ever be!”

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