Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 57623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 288(@200wpm)___ 230(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 288(@200wpm)___ 230(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
“I don’t think she should get away with running,” Laura says.
“Nor do I,” Jane agrees. “It needs to be firmly impressed upon her that in matters of discipline, she stays and takes what she has coming.”
“Fuck,” Storm curses to herself. “Fucking fuck fuck.”
She’s run upstairs to the first-year common room, to the place she previously earmarked as a last-ditch hiding spot. Not many people notice that there’s a cupboard in the wall there. It looks like it’s for storage, but when she opened it one day, she discovered that it was not a cupboard at all. It’s actually a passage up and through to the attic of the school. It’s an access point for maintenance, probably, but there are all sorts of partitions up here, and bits of furniture stored away, and even lights and whatnot, so it’s actually quite comfortable.
She’s reasonably certain she will not be found here, but this is a short-term solution to a big fucking problem. Two problems, actually. Laura was already mad, but now Jane will be too. Storm can’t exactly deny what happened or try to reframe it. Jane saw every second of it.
Storm sneaks across the roof, not wanting to distract anybody below with footsteps. She slings herself into an old high-backed chair which has been stored up here, and stuffs a knuckle into her mouth, something to chew on as she tries to come to terms with what just happened and how the hell it might be fixed without an incredible amount of pain.
A heartfelt apology might work for Jane, but Laura wants blood. She made that clear. Maybe if she went back down right now and apologized profusely for it all, that might work. Maybe they’d be so impressed with her good behavior they’d forgive her for it.
Maybe not.
“Someone will have seen her,” Laura says as she and Jane walk the surprisingly quiet halls of the school.
“Most of the girls are on leave in Zermatt. And there’s the art trip to Zurich,” Jane reminds her.
“She does know how to pick her times, and her places,” Laura admits with what might be a grudging admiration. “She must have studied my movements to know where I would be earlier today.”
“That’s… concerning.”
“That’s reconnaissance,” Laura says.
Outside, a very expensive, very solid, very reliable sort of vehicle is rolling up the driveway. It purrs with a low thrumming sound of quality toward a parking spot outside the headmistress’ office.
Jane notices it, but only in passing.
“I want to find her today,” Laura says. “And when I get my hands on her, I will not be giving her another chance to get away. I am going to whip her ass.”
“Bring her to me first,” Jane replies. “It will be easier for all concerned if I spank her into the right frame of mind first.”
“Fine,” Laura says. “But if she fights, or bites, or does any of her feral little tricks, I will be handling her.”
This is turning into a mess. Laura has every right to want to spank Storm, but Storm has made it very clear that she’s not going to go down easy.
Jane is realizing she should have dealt with the entire matter herself, probably when Laura first brought it to her attention. Then again, how was she to know the girl would stage a full ambush in revenge? It is difficult enough to predict the myriad of misbehavior of the girls who are late to class and do not study and are caught fraternizing with boys down in Zermatt. Storm’s actions are consistently and continuously outlandish.
They walk the entirety of the lower floor and find no sign of Storm. The few girls who are still here have not seen her either. She’s not in anybody’s room, and she’s certainly not in her own.
On their way back to look at the second floor, Frau Lotte emerges from her office, spotting Jane.
“Miss Strict, could I have a word with you, please?”
“Of course,” Jane says.
“Don’t worry,” Laura says. “I’ll find her.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Jane murmurs before taking herself to the headmistress’ office. It is not customary for Frau Lotte to be at work on a weekend, but it is a strange sort of weekend. There is something in the air, an unsettled energy that Storm seems to be reveling in but gives Jane some concern.
By this time, Storm has accepted the fact that she probably cannot live in the roof forever. She has made the old chair more comfortable by finding an old footstool and pulling it into place, so that she can lounge in the pleasant glow of the single bulb nearby, with darkness gathering around her in a comforting, cloaking sort of way.
It’s not that bad up here, after all. Not as nice as it is down in her room, but certainly not bad. There are worse places to live. Wetter places to live, certainly. If she can sneak some books up here, maybe Hazel’s copy of Interview with the Vampire, which is one of the few books that does not unfortunately fall into the category of being supposed to be improving.