The Vanishing Stair (Truly Devious, #2)(57)

There was a security officer blocking the view to the end of the hall. Nate was sitting at the table in the common room, and Janelle, still dressed as Wonder Woman, was grabbing at things in her room and packing her own bag. Pix stood at the table, her expression grim.

“Where’s David?” Stevie asked Pix.

“He’s over at the Great House. He found Ellie, Stevie. In a tunnel. She . . . wasn’t okay. She died.” Pix waited for Stevie to absorb this.

“Where are we going to go?” Nate asked.

“We’re setting up for the night in the yurt. They’re going to bring in beds, and we’ll hang dividers from the ceiling. It’ll be nice and cozy. We can talk.”

“Oh good,” Nate said, picking at the table surface with his fingernail.

“As soon as Janelle is ready, we can go. I’m going to get my things.”

“She must be tired of having her students die,” Nate said when Pix went upstairs. “Think of the paperwork.”

When Stevie did not reply, Nate nudged her hand.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I have no idea.”

“How the hell is this happening? Didn’t we just do this? I thought she ran away, like she went off with circus people or something. Not that she was . . . under us.”

“She wasn’t really under us,” Stevie said. “She was kind of far away.”

“Oh, good.”

“You know what I mean,” she said.

“I know what you mean. I know that this place may suck. Two people are dead.”

“It’s not the school’s fault.”

“No, but . . . maybe? Maybe this place . . .”

“Are you saying this place is, like, cursed or something?”

Nate shook his head.

“I’m saying, two people have died, and that’s a lot more than the number who died at my last school. I know shit happens. Terrible shit happens. But this is weird terrible shit with tunnels and dry ice and people suffocating to death underground . . .”

Stevie pulled her shoulders closer into her body. Her mind drifted away. It went to David and his story of his mom and his sister, of the promises she had made, of the coldness of the case she wanted to solve and the coldness under the ground.

Janelle emerged in a pair of fleece pajama bottoms and a massive fuzzy sweater, a silver overnight bag on her shoulder. She walked over to Nate and Stevie and dropped an arm around each. There were tears at the edges of her eyes.

“Pix said Vi could come over to the yurt too, if that’s all right with you. I’d just really like to see them.”

“Sure,” Stevie said. “Of course.”

Nate nodded absently.

“David found her. They took him over to the Great House.”

The blue door creaked open and Larry came inside in his red-and-black fleece coat, his walkie-talkie buzzing on his hip. He surveyed the group at the table.

“We’re going to take you over to the yurt now. We haven’t told the school at large yet. Some people are still at the party. I’d ask you, if you don’t mind, not to spread this. I know Vi Harper-Tomo has permission to come over. But please don’t text this to anyone.”

“We won’t,” Janelle said.

Larry’s focus landed on Stevie. He was reading her. She tried to shut herself, as loud and cleanly as shutting a book.

But people aren’t books, unfortunately.

The group made its way into the night, the two officers flanking them. The night was cold and still as glass, with only a sliver of a moon. Vi met them halfway, with the head of Juno House as an escort.

“What’s going on?” they said. “Are you okay?”

They looked at Janelle closely, then thumbed away the tears under her eyes.

“We’ll talk over there,” Janelle said. “I’m okay. We just have to go.”

Nate put on his headphones and lowered his head. He was checking out of the situation. Stevie wasn’t sure which one of them led this movement, but it seemed that she and Larry were at a different pace than the others, and a fractionally different trajectory, until they were on their own little path together. Either he wanted to talk to her or she subconsciously had to talk to him. Whatever the case, it was something she could not bear to hold in. As they passed the conference of statue heads, Stevie came to a stop. Larry nodded to the others to keep going. He leaned against one of the plinths and examined her.

“You need to talk?” he said.

“I was down there,” she replied.

“I know.”

He held up a fake mustache. It must have come off when she was making out with David. She had forgotten she had been wearing it.

“What you need to do, right now, is tell me the truth.”

Stevie dug into her pocket and pulled out the fragment of trash bag. She handed it to Larry.

“I found this on the floor down there.”

“What were you doing, Stevie?” he said. “I told you. No tunnels.”

“Fenton—Dr. Fenton—thought there was a tunnel. I looked. I found it. It was homework, sort of. I didn’t know Ellie was there. I had no idea she was there. It was just a tunnel. I didn’t want to go in. But he went inside.”

“David.”

Stevie nodded.