Page 91 of Waysider
Cass’s fingers tightened on the armrests. She might have been in the same chair as her last visit, but there was one huge difference this time. Cass couldn’t help glancing at the chair beside her and wishing Cal was there. As Headmistress Crane continued to wait for her response, Cass clasped her hands in her lap so she wouldn’t fuss with her bangs.
It was her first instinct to lie, and feed the headmistress some bullshit about the attack being random. But then it occurred to her—did she actually have to cover anything up? Headmistress Crane wouldn’t accuse Cass of being crazy, like those people back in New York. Karen Watkins was finally at peace, and Cass’s private investigation was officially closed, so there was no need for the headmistress to intervene or try to stop her.
Her decision made, Cass raised her head and met Headmistress Crane’s gaze.
She told her everything. Well, everything about Karen Watkins, at least. Cass left out the parts about Michael. She still couldn’t shake the sense that she’d be endangering him if anyone ever found out about their strange connection.
Cass also left out the fact that she’d blackmailed Victoria Chen, and drank a vial of See to provoke an encounter with a revenant. Something told her Headmistress Crane wouldn’t be too crazy about that part.
When she was finished, the headmistress sat exactly as she had been at the start of Cass’s account. Back straight, shoulders squared. But something in her expression had changed. Gone was the brisk, professional demeanor. In its place was something unnervingly close to fear. The clock on the mantle ticked for several seconds.
“Revenants are drawn to you, Miss Ryan. I’ve never seen anything like it,” Headmistress Crane said at last.
Cass’s stomach clenched. “What do you mean?”
The headmistress still looked troubled. “Karen Watkins was killed decades ago, yet it was you who was present when she broke free. And then there’s the revenant in the attic. Countless attempts were made to communicate with it, practically since the inception of this institution. The best voyants in the world failed after implementing every tactic in existence. Yet it was you, Cassandra Ryan, whom the chalkboard revenant spoke to.
“To be frank, I’m not entirely sure what it means,” Headmistress Crane admitted. “But I do know one thing. We should make some adjustments to your class schedule next semester. I am recommending to your professors that we expedite your education, for everyone’s sake. Yourself… and the students around you.”
Another whisper of unease drifted through Cass’s veins. The only thing that set her apart from other voyants was her connection to Michael and Cal. Was that the reason her abilities were so heightened? Headmistress Crane knew about Cal. Had the same thing already occurred to her? Cass gripped the armrests tighter for a moment, then forced her grip to loosen. She wanted to end this conversation as quickly as possible, and if she showed any fear, it might prompt Headmistress Crane to keep talking.
“Well, now you know the truth,” Cass said. “That’s what happened last night. It was terrifying, and I’m tired. I’m really tired.”
The headmistress studied her with a worried frown. “I suppose we can conclude this meeting. In the future, Miss Ryan, you will report any revenant sightings or… incidents. And please don’t hesitate to come back if you remember anything else,” she added, rising.
Cass said something polite back, but she was so eager to go, she was barely aware of the words leaving her mouth. She managed to walk out the office calmly. Even when she reached the hall and spotted the doors, the window panes bright with daybreak, Cass didn’t run like every part of her wanted to. Besides the fact that someone could see her and report back to Headmistress Crane, Cass didn’t want to freak out Cal. Wherever he was, he would feel her fear and come running, regardless of the risk he’d be taking. So Cass stepped outside calmly, and went down the stairs with loose, measured steps.
As if her thoughts had conjured him, Cass spotted her brother’s familiar outline farther down the path. He was coming from the direction of the street. Cass hurried toward him, her shoulders filling with tension again. Her stoic mask began to crack. Once they got close enough, she snatched Cal’s arm and dragged him off the path. They took a shortcut back to House Wayside, cutting through yards and between other dormitories.
Cass waited until they’d gotten back to her room, the door closed firmly behind them.
“Where have you been?” Cass demanded. When he opened his mouth to answer, she held up her hand. “And before you lie to me again, don’t. Just fucking don’t. I’m done with the lies, Cal.”
Cass stopped, finally giving her brother a chance to respond. But Cal was staring at her ribcage. Cass followed his gaze and realized her shirt had risen when she lifted her hand. Part of the bandage was visible, the white gauze already stained with blood. She pulled her shirt back down and looked up at Cal. “I got lucky.”
“I didn’t sense anything last night, Cass, I swear to you. I figured you’d go home after the test, and hang out with your roommates until I was back. If I’d known… what happened?” His voice had that too-careful way about it, like he was trying to be casual. Cal still wasn’t a good liar, despite all the practice he’d gotten lately. He waited for her answer, and something in his posture said that Cal expected her to lie, too.
But Cass was tired of lying. She was tired of a lot of things.
What the hell, she thought. Cass moved over to the chair, knowing that if she sat on the bed, she’d be tempted to lay down and avoid all of this. She faced her brother with an expression of resolve. For the second time that morning, Cass told Karen Watkins’s story. Well, she supposed it was her story now, too. Cal listened without interrupting, and he stood in the place Michael usually stood when he was here—next to the window, his face glowing within a slant of sunlight. Cass was strangely unsettled by it, but she focused on what she was saying. She wanted to get every detail right so that she never had to talk about it again.
Once she was done, Cal turned his head and peered through the glass. “How long has this been going on?” he asked.
Cass didn’t want to answer, but she’d already come this far. Might as well lay it all on the table. “Pretty much since we got here,” she said.
After a few seconds, Cal shifted toward her again. Cass waited for him to yell, or ask more questions. Instead, he just kept looking down at the place where she’d been cut. Cass could tell from the look in his eyes that her brother was realizing how close she’d come. How close they had come to never seeing each other again.
Maybe that was why he finally told her the truth, too.
Cal raised his gaze and looked her in the eye. “I’ve been looking for the guy that tried to kill you,” he said.
Cass blinked, and her mind replayed the words. The guy that tried to kill you. Understanding sank in. The boy on the bridge. The villain in all her bad dreams. Cass fought the memory of that night, but she caught glimpses of it anyway. Dark skies. The black river. Tears glistening on a curved cheek.
Terror exploded through Cass, quickly followed by a rush of fury. “Why the hell would—”
“They never found his body, Cass. That means he’s still alive out there somewhere. He targeted you. What if he comes back and tries again? What if he goes after Gavin next time? Or Mom and Dad?”
They were questions Cass had asked herself, too. Everything inside her wanted to tear into her brother, but she knew another fight might push him away. She couldn’t risk it, not when he was finally opening up to her. Cass forced a barrage of questions back and allowed herself to ask only one. The most important one. “Did you find him?”
