Chapter 21 - The Girl in Green

Star was already in her chair when I made it to the dining hall for lunch. I grabbed a sandwich and headed to the table, though I wasn’t hungry. My cheek throbbed and I had a low-grade headache that got worse if I changed directions or moved suddenly.

“What happened to your cheek?” Star asked.

“I had an accident,” I said.

Star lifted her headphones.

“An accident? What kind of accident?”

“I fell.”

“You fell?” Star said. “You fell down the stairs?”

“Um . . . no,” I said. “I mean, I was in the dining hall last night looking for something to eat, but it was dark and I tripped, so . . .”

I trailed off, remembering the ghost from the night before, the weight of her sadness that had been almost too much to bear. I glanced at the spot on the wall where Gay-Lynne had been, half expecting to find her there, weeping softly into her hands while everyone around us ignored her.

Star followed my gaze to the wall and back. “What are you looking at?” she asked.

“Nothing.”

It was the truth. There was nothing there.

We were both quiet for so long, I felt like our conversation had ended. I expected Star to put her headphones back on, but instead she peered at me as though she had something else on her mind. As long as it wasn’t about my face, I was fine with it. It was only lunch time, and already I was tired of the stares and the suspicious looks.

“I’d like to look at the blueprints again,” Star said.

“Why?” I asked, surprised. Star’s drawing had been so thorough it was hard to imagine why she’d need to see the blueprints again.

“I’m missing something about Ms. Burton’s office,” she said. “It isn’t right.”

That L-shaped office tortured Star. I could tell she saw it as a blemish on the entire building.

I glanced around the room, worried that someone might overhear. “We should talk to Ava first,” I said in a low voice.

It was strange, but since my phone had been under her desk, I’d started thinking of it as our phone. Ava and I had to make decisions about it together.

“I know,” Star said. “I wanted to ask Ava, but she wasn’t in chemistry today.”

My stomach swirled and I put my sandwich down before taking a bite.

“Ava wasn’t in class?”

“No, she wasn’t.”

A lump of sour coffee rose in the back of my throat. I swallowed. Ava hadn’t been in the room when I woke up. She didn’t wake me up to tell me I was about to be late. Now it struck me as very odd that Ava hadn’t at least tried to wake me up.

“She wasn’t there when I woke up this morning,” I said. “I’m going to go back to my room and see if she’s there.”

We left both of our full trays on the table and headed to the girls’ dorm.

Halfway up the stairs, we ran into Kenzie, headed down. When she spied us, she fast-walked to where we were, her face tight with anxiety.

“Have you seen Ava?” she asked. “I can’t find her anywhere.”

“We were headed to the room to check,” I said.

“I was just there,” Kenzie said. “She wasn’t there, but maybe she was in the bathroom or something and I missed her. Can I come with you?”

“Of course,” I replied.

When I pushed open the door to my dorm room, the room was just as I’d left it. Both of our beds unmade, Ava’s paperback face down on her desk. That paperback, her too-bright pink lipstick and liquid eyeliner on top of the cabinet by the mirror—it all felt ominous. I remembered Ava telling me about finding Layla’s earrings the morning after she disappeared.

“Do you think she went back into the old hospital?” Star asked, saying out loud what I’d been thinking.

“Why would she do that?” Kenzie said, her voice rising. “She told me you went down there and found an operating room. Why go back?”

I dropped on my bed.

This was my fault. Ava had said that we needed to go into the old hospital late at night, around three, and I’d told her I didn’t think I could do it.

She must have gone alone.

“We found Layla’s hair by one of the hospital gurneys,” I said. “She wanted to take a video to prove that Layla was there.”

“She didn’t tell me that,” Kenzie said. “Why didn’t she tell me?”

“Ava didn’t want to worry you,” I replied. I couldn’t meet her eyes.

“Didn’t want me to worry?” She huffed. “This is exactly why I do worry about Ava. Oh my god, where is she? Why isn’t she back?”

I held out my hand, and she grabbed it firmly. It’s not something I would normally do, but Kenzie seemed on the verge of spiraling. Holding Kenzie’s hand calmed me as much as her.

“If Ava went into the old hospital, she would have taken your phone,” Star said.

My phone. Of course.

I dropped Kenzie’s hand and crawled under Ava’s desk.

I’d watched Ava put the phone back in the compartment under her desk, along with the battery charger. I searched for the hiding place, but it wasn’t immediately obvious. I pushed up on boards, hoping to find a weak spot.

None of the panels gave way, and I tried sliding instead. A small panel just large enough for me to stick my hand through slid open. I reached inside and felt something.

A piece of paper.

My heart sank.

The phone was gone.

I pulled the paper out of the compartment and slid the board back in place.

I turned the note over and read out loud: “Tried to wake you, but you were out. If you don’t see me, you know where I am. Ava.”

Kenzie uttered a strangled cry and leapt to her feet. “We have to go find her,” she said.

“It’s lunchtime,” I said. “The cafeteria is full, and the staff are in the kitchen.”

“But what if she’s hurt?” Kenzie said.

I sucked in a breath.

“It’s possible that someone shut the door to the medical waste incinerator behind her and Ava is just stuck,” I said. “I don’t love the idea of her being alone in the dark, but she might be fine.”

“So, let’s go down there right now,” Kenzie said.

“We can’t,” I said.

I thought about Layla’s chunk of scalp, her hair on the ground. All the surgical tools. There was no way to explain everything Ava and I had seen in the old hospital without making it sound like a complete horror show. But I wasn’t Ava. I couldn’t lie to Kenzie to make her feel better about things.

“Why not?” Kenzie demanded.

“Ava thinks they did something to Layla, in the old hospital,” I said. “If we tell anyone Ava is down there, they’ll know we’re on to them.”

“Them,” Kenzie echoed numbly. “By them, you mean the headmaster? Who else?”

I shrugged. It could be anyone here. Teachers, staff, people from town. Someone had to be helping Ms. Burton.

“I don’t know,” I said. “The headmaster for sure.”

Kenzie dropped slowly to Ava’s bed. She closed her eyes and took a series of deep breaths. I was worried she might have an anxiety attack or go into shock, and then we’d have to take her to the nurse and explain.

Star looked at Kenzie and back to me.

Kenzie opened eyes red-rimmed with unshed tears, but her mouth was set in a thin line of determination.

“So, what do we do now?” she said.

I didn’t want to go back down there. The thought of crawling through that bone ash into the red, dim dark made my mouth go dry with fear and the memory of inhaled human dust. And it would be in the dark because I didn’t have a light—Ava had taken that when she took my phone. And what if whatever was in the tunnel had made it up into the old hospital?

But I couldn’t leave Ava down there.

I would never sleep again if I did.

“We’ll find her. We’ll go tonight.” I tried to sound reassuring. Like I had a plan. Ava had been the one to come up with all the plans.

“What about the security guard?” Star asked.

“The guard who comes on at eleven is a fan of mine,” Kenzie said. “If we wait until then, I can distract him.”

“I wish we had a flashlight,” I said. “There are exit signs that give a little light but . . .”

“Flashlight,” Star said.

She stood up abruptly and left the room. A minute or two later, Star returned with a small purple penlight. She handed it to me.

“I don’t like the dark,” she said. “I keep this in my room in case the lights go out.”

I twisted the cap and pointed the beam into the dark of the closet. It was a small flashlight, but the beam was stronger than the light on my phone.

“This is perfect,” I said. “Thanks.”

“I can’t go with you,” Star said bluntly. “I don’t like the dark.”

“The two of us will be fine,” Kenzie said. “Just the flashlight is enough. Thank you.”

Now that we had a plan, Kenzie seemed to brighten. She might have felt differently if she had any idea what was down there.

I tried not to think about that too-clean surgical room, about Burton and whoever else had taken Layla into the old hospital. Ava was smart enough to obscure her tracks in the dust, to hide if she had to.

And the thing in the tunnel. If it was an animal, it was probably gone by now.

For Ava’s sake, I hoped that was true.

“We’ll meet back here just before eleven,” Kenzie said.

* * *

We had no choice but to go on with the day and pretend everything was fine. The wall clock in the classrooms ticked by with maddening slowness, and every minute that passed felt more and more like a betrayal. Ava was three floors down, underneath our feet, and yet I couldn’t reach her. There was no way to get to the service corridor and the boiler room without being spotted by the kitchen staff, students, and teachers who routinely went down to the buffet for coffee refills.

After classes, I trudged upstairs to my room to wait. My low-grade headache had matured into a full throbbing pain that was hard to ignore.

Barlow sat in one of the armchairs on the second-floor landing. He was wearing soccer shorts and a thin T-shirt that clung to his broad chest in a not unpleasant way.

I’d forgotten that I’d said I would meet him after school to show him pictures of Gay-Lynne Sims. It hardly seemed to matter now.

Barlow stood when he saw me coming up the stairs.

“How’s your head?”

“Not great, but I’ll live,” I said.

“I want to check your eyes again,” he said.

“Go ahead.” I leaned in, eyes opened wide.

He put his hand on the side of my face and gazed into my eyes.

We stood there, golden afternoon sun streaming through the window, his hand cupped tenderly around my cheek, so close that I could feel his warm breath on the side of my face.

Then I remembered. I had no right to even this small moment of happiness. Not with Ava somewhere underneath us.

Barlow dropped his hand, as if sensing my mood shift.

“Are you okay?” he said.

I shook my head.

I knew I should keep my secrets, but I couldn’t help it. Everyone would know soon enough that my roommate was gone.

“I can’t find Ava,” I said.

Barlow frowned and straightened.

“She wasn’t in history today,” he said. “I thought she might be sick.”

“No, she’s gone.”

Gone. Saying these words out loud made me shudder involuntarily. I’d been telling myself that Ava was under the school, trapped behind an iron door someone saw fit to close, but what if she wasn’t?

Barlow put a hand on my shoulder, his eyes filled with concern. “When was the last time you saw her?” he asked.

Everything after I saw the girl was a soft-edged nightmare of pain and disbelief. But when I returned to the room, Ava had been there, in bed. I’d wanted to wake her up and tell her about the girl in green, but I scarcely believed it myself.

“When I got back from the dining room, she was in bed, asleep,” I said. “I wish I’d woken her up.”

“Did she say anything to you?” he said. “Do you think she might have gone outside?”

I closed my eyes. Late-afternoon tiredness and the headache had turned my brain foggy. I wanted to tell him everything, but I couldn’t. Barlow was the headmaster’s second cousin, and whatever was going on here, I was sure she knew about it.

“Jess,” he said softly. “Just tell me. I want to help.”

“I don’t think you can,” I said.

“Try me,” he said.

The old hospital was dangerous, with darkened halls filled with overturned gurneys and broken equipment. Ava could be hurt, and if she was, I couldn’t get her through the medical waste incinerator by myself.

When I first met Barlow, he told me he’d carry me down the mountain if he had to. I needed his muscle.

Maybe he’d turn me in to the headmaster, but I didn’t think so. It was worth the risk.

“I think I know where she is,” I said quietly. “But you can’t tell anyone. Promise?”

Barlow nodded solemnly.

“Where?”

I looked down to the floor reflexively, thinking of the darkened space below. I didn’t want to go back in. I really didn’t.

“Down there,” I lowered my voice. “There’s a way into the old hospital through the basement.”

Barlow raised an eyebrow. “Why would she go there?”

“She went looking for Layla,” I said quickly. I didn’t want to have to explain any more than that.

Barlow shook his head, a look of confusion on his face.

“Why did she think Layla would be down there?” he said. “Layla left because she had a family emergency.”

“She didn’t tell me,” I said, looking at the floor. I couldn’t tell him what I knew about this place—about his cousin, the headmaster.

“Then how do you know . . . ?” he began.

“Don’t you need to get to practice?” I said quickly. “I think you’re going to be late.”

Barlow looked over his shoulder. The landing had emptied out, and there were sounds of people downstairs in the common room and the dining hall. When Barlow looked back at me, I could tell that he wasn’t convinced that he’d gotten the full story. But I couldn’t tell him everything. Not without putting Ava at risk. I needed his help.

“Are you going to look for her?” he asked.

I nodded.

“So how do we get in?” he asked.

Barlow said we in a firm tone of voice, like there was no way to stop him from coming along—not that I wanted to. I felt my shoulders loosen with relief. I couldn’t drag Kenzie through the bone dust and I didn’t want to go alone.

“There’s a way into the old hospital through the boiler room. The entrance to the boiler room is by the kitchen, so we have to wait until tonight when everyone is gone.”

“What time?”

“Eleven,” I said.

“Meet you right here, at eleven,” he said.

Barlow turned and bounded down the stairs. I watched him go, and before he turned the corner, he looked up and gave me a reassuring smile.

It sort of broke my heart.

I wondered what Barlow would do when he saw the operating room, the gurneys, the new surgical tools. The chunk of Layla’s scalp and hair, a sign that something truly horrific had happened to her under the school.

Burton’s school. She had to be involved.

I wanted to spare Barlow that terrible truth, but I needed his help.

Whatever happened, Barlow knew first aid, and he was strong enough to help me get Ava out, if we had to. I told myself that was the only reason for the swell of warmth in the center of my chest. They say you should never get attached to the firefighter who pulls you out of a burning building simply because he has nice strong arms and he showed up at the right moment.

Barlow would help me bring Ava back, but I couldn’t forget that he was Burton’s cousin. Not for a minute.