The Vanishing Stair (Truly Devious, #2)(16)

That is, if this student could deal with the person who was somewhere above her now . . . someone she longed to go up and see, someone whose presence thrummed through the floorboards. She felt her body growing warm just knowing David was so close. She recalled every sense, every touch. The soft curl of his hair, the curve of his neck, his kiss.

Edward King’s voice was in her head, making a mockery of everything she had ever felt about David. She could not go upstairs. She could not look for him. Maybe she had to avoid him forever. Avoid the feeling. Avoid all contact. That was the only way.

She clutched her comforter and pulled it over her face, blotting out the scene and calling down the night.





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FIVE LEGENDS OF ELLINGHAM ACADEMY


You know the story of Ellingham Academy and the famous kidnapping/murder plot. But did you know these twists in the tale?

1. ALICE IN THE ATTIC: According to one story, Albert Ellingham engineered the kidnapping himself as part of a game. When the game went wrong and two people died, he had to cover up what he had done. He took his daughter, Alice, back to the house and raised her there in the attic. Servants were told not to go there, even when they heard her footsteps above them. Eventually, Alice became too old for the attic, and when she could not escape, took her own life. Her ghost walks the floors there, and some people say you can hear her playing with her toys.

2. THE SECRET OF THE LAKE: Another story claims that Iris and Alice Ellingham were not kidnapped at all. In this version, Iris had a breakdown and murdered Alice by drowning her in the lake on the property. This event was witnessed by a student named Dottie Epstein. In order to keep this secret, Dottie was killed and the kidnapping story was invented. Iris was kept hidden, but she eventually escaped and killed herself. In despair over what had transpired, Albert Ellingham later drained the lake. Naturally, the ghosts of Iris, Alice, and Dottie still appear on the edge of where the lake once was. So. Many. Ghosts.

3. THE SUNKEN TREASURE: Pirates, rejoice! Is there a sunken treasure to be had? This story claims that after his wife’s body was found, Albert Ellingham collected her jewels and dropped them into Lake Champlain in a weighted box. So if you have scuba gear and some time on your hands, you might want to have a look. No ghosts, but treasure is better anyway.

4. THE HEIR TO THE THRONE: If you thought that last one sounded good, this story will blow you away. This report claims that after the kidnapping and murders, Albert Ellingham rewrote his will, leaving his fortune to anyone who could find his daughter, dead or alive, provided they were not responsible for the crimes. The Ellingham estate and businesses are worth in excess of two billion dollars today. Get hunting!

5. THE KIDNAPPING THAT NEVER WAS: No ghosts or fortunes here, just a damn good game. This story claims that the kidnapping and murders at Ellingham Academy never happened at all. The entire affair—the search, the investigation, the bodies—all of it was part of Albert Ellingham’s greatest game. The student who died, Dottie Epstein, was an actor. The game concluded when he faked his own death in an explosion two years later. In this happy-ending version, all the players were alive and lived together in complete anonymity, leaving fortune and fame behind. Or at least fame. They probably took the fortune.

So which one do you like? The ghosts? The treasure? Or the happy ever after?





5


“I WANT TO JUMP IN THOSE,” JANELLE SAID, HOPPING AHEAD ON THE way to breakfast. “But I don’t want to mess up what they’ve done. It’s so tempting.”

The next morning, Janelle, Stevie, and Nate were heading toward the dining hall. On weekends, the school offered brunch. Stevie had usually slept through this before, but the excitement of being back had woken her early. Even Nate emerged and came downstairs. They were now making their way to the green on an aggressively beautiful fall morning. The sky was a vibrant royal blue, a throbbing blue. Some of the maintenance crew were blowing leaves into gigantic mounds.

Janelle was dressed for the occasion in a burnished orange sweater and jeans and a chunky black scarf, with a spicy autumnal perfume that smelled of bergamot and clove. Stevie was wearing the least wrinkled and most likely to be clean clothes from the trash bag—a black hoodie and some stretched out gray leggings. This was not surprising, as 90 percent of Stevie’s clothes were black or gray or stretched out and her tops were more likely to be hooded than not. She marveled at Janelle, who moved through the patches of sun that came through the leaves, with her perfect style. It wasn’t fancy, but it made every moment feel like an occasion. Many people existed; Janelle lived.

Stevie looked up at the thick canopy of leaves over her head as she wound her way down the paths that snaked toward the Great House. These were the early changing leaves, the prime ones, the burnished golds and the meaty reds. As she reached the green, the view widened. Up here, on the mountain, she had one of the best views of the bright halo of color that overtook the land. The view was hallucinatory, with oceans of gold and orange all around the horizon, marbled with red that looked like rivers of lava coming down from the mountaintops.

She had never been an autumn person; the shortening of the days gave her the jitters, possibly because she had been prone to anxiety attacks at night, and the more night, the more possible anxiety. But it didn’t have to be that way, and she decided she was going to become an autumn person here. Flannel was okay. Apples were fine. Pumpkins were the watermelons of fall. Were these the thoughts autumn people had?