Page 91 of Haunting the Deep

“Also, it’s time to decide what to do about those missed exams from last semester. A paper should do it. I’m around for office hours today.”

Alice doesn’t believe in coincidences. Maybe I don’t, either. “I can’t today.”

Mr. Wardwell frowns. “Tomorrow, then,” he says with finality, and walks away.

I rub my eye with the heel of my hand and push through the lunchroom doors. I head straight for the Descendants. Blair and her friends whisper behind their hands as I pass. She looks like she wants to say something to me, but instead she glances at Matt and then goes back to her conversation. I’m sure Niki didn’t waste any time telling people about me insisting on seeing Jaxon’s bracelet. I take my seat facing the window, my back to the lunchroom.

“I feel terrible for Mrs. M. It took me an hour to convince her this morning that keeping Jaxon home would only agitate him more,” Alice says.

Mary scowls at the cafeteria. “And it’s not helping that this school is a breeding ground for gossip.”

“Yeah, it’d be nice if they all just shut up already,” Alice says loudly enough for the tables next to us to hear. The few people looking in our direction immediately busy themselves with their lunches.

I pull a piece of paper out of my pocket. “So I had some time in history today, and I went through my third-class passenger cards looking for Mollie Mullin again. I couldn’t find a single passenger with that last name or anything similar. So I looked for anyone named Mollie. No such luck. There were, however, a lot of passengers named Mary.”

Susannah’s eyes light up. “That’s an old nickname. I had a great-aunt Mollie whose proper name was Mary. I hadn’t thought of that.”

They all lean toward me.

“This is the thing: I found Denis and Mary Lennon, who boarded in Queenstown,” I say. “Originally I thought they were brother and sister because that’s how they were listed on the passenger ledger. But when I started looking up each of the Mary passengers, I found a news article that said Mary’s last name was really Mullin and that she and Denis were actually eloping to the United States.”

“Whoa. The brother-sister act was a cover?” Mary asks.

“Yeah. They were being chased by Mollie’s brother, who had a gun. Her family didn’t want her to marry Denis because he was the barman in their general store. Her family thought he wasn’t a good match. But her brother didn’t show up until right after theTitanicleft port, and the two got away.”

“Did they survive?” Susannah asks.

An image of Mollie laughing and telling me stories about her family pops into my thoughts. I sigh and shake my head.

“How did we not learn about that story?” Mary asks. “It’s so tragic and romantic.”

“So many people were forgotten,” I say. “They didn’t make the cut for the lifeboats, and they didn’t make the cut for historians.”

“Change of plans. I’m going to the Spring Fling as Mollie Mullin,” Mary announces, and I smile at her.

Alice chews on her thumbnail. “What does it mean that a third-class passenger is now a first-class maid?”

“And why do Henry and Myra believe I was with them in Europe and Asia when I never was?” I ask.

“Someone or multiple someones are intentionally rewriting history,” Alice says.

“And keeping theTitanicstuck in time before its sinking,” Susannah says.

“April thirteenth,” I say, remembering Ada’s and Mollie’s answers.

“And today is the twelfth,” Mary says, and we all look at her. “You don’t think something is going to happen tomorrow when our time catches up to theirs, do you?”

No one answers, but I can tell by their faces that they are thinking about Redd’s warning.

“Wardwell just asked me to come in for office hours,” I say.

“Did Elijah find anything in his house?” Susannah asks.

“Lots ofTitanicinfo, so much that he hasn’t even made it through everything. But nothing magical,” I say. “So basically, we have no solid leads on how or if he’s involved.”

Ilook out my bedroom window at Mrs. Meriwether’s house. The lights are out, and the last I heard from Alice, Mrs. Meriwether invited her to stay the night again. I sit down on my bed, then stand right back up.

My phone says it’s 11:08 p.m. I make a lap around my bedroom and pull my hair up into a ball on top of my head. We’re no closer to finding out who’s collectingTitanicspirits, tomorrow is April thirteenth, Jaxon’s still under a spell, Mrs. Meriwether looks as worn out as I do, and my dad wants to move. I take another lap.