“I swear I don’t know anything.”
Her jaw ticks. “So she didn’t confide in you? Or tell you anyone she was scared of?”
“No, none of that.”
“Very well.” She stands, and I push the trash can with Nore’s letter under my bed when her back is turned to avoid things I don’t want to have to explain. “The Council has postponed all events, including your Cotillion, until Nore is found. I’m sure you understand.”
“Yes, of course.”
“I’ll be in and out traveling for a bit to be hands-on with the investigation. If you need anything, you’ll have to see Mrs. Cuthers.”
“All right. Thank you. I hope she’s okay.”
Grandmom glances off, then at me. “Right, yes. I hope so, too. Oh, and this came for you just now.” She hands me an envelope, and I rip it open.
“It’s from my mom,” I say before realizing there might be things in the letter Mom doesn’t want Grandmom to know.
“Thank you again.” I hold the note to my chest, and her nostrils flare as she lets herself out.
Remember, stay put. See you soon.
I clutch the letter to myself in relief before sticking it in a drawer as the knowledge that Nore is missing tugs at my conscience. Once I’m sure Grandmom’s farther away, I bolt out the door. I have to find Jordan. The halls are full, but I’m numb to their rotation. There’s no sign of Jordan in the dining hall or the security booth. I even go to the Gents Wing and bang on his door. Nothing.
Panic seizes in me, and my toushana wakes to greet me. I tense, willing it back down, but I can still see Nore’s face draining of color. I rush to the foyer, through the broom closet door, and down the corridor toward the forest, trying to choke down the bile rising in my throat. I push through the doors, and outside morning fog hugs the trees.
My chest is tight, my bones colder as the Dust in me fights back but fails against my snowballing panic. Jordan, I need to find him. I need answers. But first— In the privacy of the Secret Wood, I fall to my knees and sink my hands into the earth and let the cold burn through me. Decay spreads around me like a swelling pool of blood, and my pulse slows. I blow out a breath and sit there until my knees ache, until my toushana finally settles like a feather done being blown about by the wind. My black diadem pricks my memory. I hope I don’t regret this.
I inhale the woodsy morning scent of cypress and earth, reminding myself I’m still alive. I’m still here. I rise and start my cleanup, dusting my shame from my pant legs.
“Quell?”
I turn and there’s Jordan. My heart stops.
“What are you doing out here?”
“I . . . was looking for you.”
“Here?” His mouth twists in suspicion.
A bit of truth is the only way I’ll get out of this. “I followed you here, that night after the Tavern. I—I saw what you did with your . . . you know.” My gaze hits the ground for fear he might see how much I’m holding back.
He sighs. “I hate you saw that. I hate you know that’s what this place is.”
“What do you mean?”
“Look around.”
His words seep into me like a sieve, and for the first time I really take in the forest in morning light. It’s littered with broken trees as far as I can see. But most are more than broken, they’re bent in half, bits of them decayed. The ground is blotchy, not just where I’m standing, but more or less all over.
I’m not the first to come here to use toushana. Nor is he.
I hug around myself.
He steps closer to me, misreading my discomfort entirely. But it’s a balm I cling to, a shield I will use.
“I heard about Nore from Grandmom, but she wouldn’t say much.” My chest squeezes, awaiting his answer. “Does she have . . .”
“You will repeat this to no one.”