The Similars (The Similars #1)(90)

“But your research was compelling enough to prompt the science department to give you a small grant to work in the east wing during after-school hours?”

“Yes.” Albert is shaking.

“What animals were you working with, Mr. Seymour?”

“Canis vulpes canis,” he whispers, his voice barely audible. “Domesticated foxes. A cross between a wild fox and domesticated dog.”

“And what were you attempting to accomplish with your research?” Ransom presses.

Albert pauses a beat, his knuckles going white as he wrings his hands together, presumably to stop them from shaking.

“I was attempting to clone them.”

There’s a complete hush in the room.

“And were your attempts successful?” Ransom continues.

“Yes,” says Albert. It’s only now when he glances over at his brother that Johnny meets his gaze.

“But you did not free the animals from the lab?”

“No,” says Albert, never taking his eyes off Johnny. “It wasn’t me.”

“We’ve already established that Albert wasn’t on the school premises at the time of the violation!” pipes in Fleischer. “It couldn’t have been—”

“Mr. Seymour, one final question. It was your personal access code that was used to open the laboratory. Did you willingly give this information to any student?”

The two brothers’ eyes are locked. I can sense an understanding pass between them.

“No,” Albert says quietly. “I did not willingly give this information to another student.”

The room is silent as everyone waits for Ransom to respond. My pulse pounds in my ears.

“Is all this really necessary?” Fleischer interrupts. “Johnny Underwood was caught freeing those animals. It’s clear what happened. He stole the access code from his brother and released those animals as a childish prank. I’d recommend we proceed to the punishment portion of this session.”

Ransom nods, shuffling through his notes.

“Does anyone else have anything they’d like to add?” Ransom addresses the other adults in the room, the members of the Darkwood board.

A woman to Ransom’s left—gray-haired, stiff, matronly—surveys Albert and Johnny. “The two of you are brothers?” she asks.

Albert nods. Johnny remains silent.

“They are half brothers, Helena.”

“Ah yes. Mr. Seymour, you are a descendant of the Seymours who founded this school—am I correct?”

“That’s right,” Albert mumbles.

“And you, Mr. Underwood. You are also a descendant of those same Seymours?”

Johnny clenches his fists, unclenches them. “Technically? You could say that.”

“And yet,” Helena presses, “you are on a scholarship, while your brother comes from some of the greatest wealth in this school’s history.”

“Your point, Helena?” Ransom interjects. “The boy’s background has no bearing on how this offense was committed, and certainly no bearing on the punishment.”

“Respectfully, Ransom, I disagree—”

Ransom cuts her off. “It is protocol that the defendant has one last chance to speak. Mr. Seymour, you can return to your seat.”

Albert mumbles something I can’t make out, grabs his notebook and satchel, and gets up from the table, retreating into the shadows of the room. He doesn’t sit with Zeke Choate, Jane Porter, and the others.

“Mr. Underwood,” Ransom goes on. “Are you prepared to speak?”

“If you require it, sir.” Johnny looks over at Zeke, Jaeger, Booker, and finally, Jane. He meets her eyes, and only then do I see the desperation on his face. Jane shakes her head.

“I don’t have anything to say beyond what’s already been reported by my friends,” says Johnny, looking Ransom in the eye. The acidity in his voice—especially on the word “friends”—is not lost on me. “I slipped out of my dorm room at eight p.m. on March fifteenth after telling my friends what I had planned. They thought I was joking, which is why they didn’t try to stop me. I used the laboratory key code I got from Albert without his knowledge, sneaked into the east wing, and liberated the animals in question. It was my idea, and I worked alone.”

I hear a tiny gasp from the sidelines, and Jane has her hand over her mouth, stifling a sob.

Ransom’s voice is stern. “So you don’t deny that you committed the infraction alone? And that it was solely your idea?”

Johnny looks at Jane. Booker is at her side. Next to him are Zeke and Jaeger, who looks like he’s about to be sick to his stomach. He whispers something to Zeke. Zeke shakes his head sharply. Then Jaeger stands. I’m wondering whether he’s about to confess that he and Zeke were, in fact, there that night—but he doesn’t. Instead, he strides out of the room.

Johnny sags. “No,” he says, resignation in his voice.

“Wait!” It’s Jane. She stands, her whole body trembling.

“Sit down, Ms. Porter,” Fleischer barks.

Ransom puts up a hand for decorum. “Was there something you wanted to add?”

Jane and Johnny lock eyes again.

“No,” Johnny says quickly. “She doesn’t know anything about that night.”