Girls with Sharp Sticks (Girls with Sharp Sticks, #1)(85)

Thank you for your prompt attention.

Sincerely,

Roman Petrov, Head of School IA: Innovations Academy This communication may contain information that is legally privileged, confidential, proprietary, or otherwise exempt from disclosure. If you are not the intended recipient, please note that any dissemination, distribution, or copying of this communication is strictly prohibited. Anyone who receives this message in error should notify the sender immediately by telephone or return e-mail and delete it from their computer.





26


On the way to breakfast in the morning, I manage to tell Marcella about my conversation with Leandra. I didn’t take the silver key, afraid she was setting me up.

Then I whisper about the Guardian putting his hands around my neck, and Marcella’s eyes flash with anger. With fear. She passes along the message as we walk, letting the others know. Brynn looks back at me horrified, but I nod to tell her that I’m okay.

We sit down for our meal, careful not to get caught talking too much. Ida Welch is missing, I notice. She’s the second girl in the past week.

It’s starting to feel empty in here. There are vacant spaces where my friends used to be. Friends that haven’t been coming back.

I’m leaning in to mention Ida’s absence to Marcella when Guardian Bose walks into the room and joins the faculty at their table. I have a visceral reaction when I see him, goosebumps on my skin, a twist in my gut. I can barely stand to be around him, although I don’t really have much of a choice.

The men laugh together, eating their biscuits and gravy.

Guardian Bose holds a conversation, popular among the teachers—even though Anton thought him unprofessional. He gets to live his life, free of judgment. Free of restraint. All while he comes into my room at night to intimidate me.

I wait to make sure none of the staff is paying attention, and then I lean in to the table.

“Tomorrow we have Running Course,” I whisper. “Jackson will probably be beyond the fence. We can make a plan.”

“What do we do about the other girls?” Brynn asks.

“We can’t tell them,” Annalise says. “If they tip off Anton, who knows what will happen to us.” Annalise doesn’t lift her eyes when she says this. In fact, since Professor Penchant attacked her in the front of the room, she hasn’t said much of anything.

“We can’t just leave them,” Brynn says.

“They’ll slow us down,” Annalise replies. When Brynn turns to her, obviously hurt, Annalise winces.

“I’m sorry, but they will,” Annalise adds. “We’ll get this academy shut down. I promise. And then the others will really be free. We can’t take the chance now.”

“But—” Brynn starts, but Annalise shakes her head no.

“I won’t take the chance,” Annalise repeats adamantly. She rubs absently at the bruise on her arm, the one left from Professor Penchant’s attack during class. Annalise’s jaw tightens, her eyes welling up.

“I’ll kill those men before I let them touch me again,” she whispers. “Before I knowingly let them stick an ice pick in my eye.”

“We have a plan,” I say to Annalise, trying to calm her. “It’s going to work. You believe that too.”

“I’m just letting you know I have a plan B,” Annalise replies.

We stare at each other a moment, and then I nod, understanding why. The others stay quiet, none of them arguing. What if they come for us next? What if we have to protect ourselves?

Ida’s missing presence is a gaping hole at the table. A reminder to all of us that something is happening.

I sip from my juice and stare toward the windows. I know beyond the glass is an expansive lawn. The thick woods. And of course, the iron fence between the two. We’re locked behind barred windows, miles from the closest neighbor.

The academy has kept us isolated so we couldn’t run. But they didn’t count on my skill to make really awesome friends. And they didn’t count on our ability to fight back.

“What if we don’t wait?” Marcella whispers. I turn to her, my heart kicking up its beats.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“We can leave tonight,” she suggests, lowering her voice. “We call Jackson to pick us up. Then we run. We run because we’re not staying here to let Anton put us through impulse control therapy again. We’re not letting the Guardian puts his disgusting hands on you again.”

“I don’t have a way to talk to Jackson,” I say. “I have his number, but the phone in the hall doesn’t work. And I imagine they’ve locked the communications room.”

“The Guardian,” Brynn says, widening her eyes. “I think he has a phone. I’ve seen him use it on our field trips. It’s probably in his room.”

I look at Sydney, and although we’re quiet, we know that we have to get to that phone.

“Just after dinner,” Brynn says. “The Guardian is never around.”

“He’s been helping Dr. Groger in the evenings,” Marcella agrees. “You’ll have some time.”

It’s a terrifying thought—sneaking around in the Guardian’s room. Going through his things. But what other choice do we have? This might be it.

“Will that work?” I ask Sydney. Reluctantly, she nods.