Friday found Alna standing outside Finley High, a place she hadn’t been since she had graduated at thirteen. It was also the very school her girlfriend went to. Just that thought was enough to bring an amused smile to her lips.

  Despite the years she’d been gone, there were no obvious differences in the school. Its exterior consisted largely of brick walls, painted a dark shade of blue that Alna had a difficult time forming an opinion of. There were quite a few windows, allowing a glimpse into a few classrooms and the stairwell that led to the second and third floor. The land in front of the high school was of little consequence, being a simple gravel parking lot for those who had vehicles.

  Starting forward, Alna shivered as cold seeped past both her black winter coat and the sweater underneath it. The weather had improved since yesterday, but as it was still ten degrees below zero, Alna wasn’t all that eager to remain outside any longer than necessary. She’d always been on the thin side, leaving her with very little natural defenses against the colder climates.

  Upon entering through the front doors of Finley High, Alna’s eyes were immediately drawn to Marianna. Her girlfriend was leaning against the wall next to the office door, absently surveying the steady stream of students entering the auditorium, where William Corday’s memorial was to take place. Alna approached her, deliberately trying not to look at the students as an onslaught of observations came to her.

  Smoker, academic, avid reader, takes drugs, likely has a bad home life.

  Marianna glanced over when she heard Alna’s footsteps, a hesitant smile appearing on her face.

  “Hey,” Marianna said, reaching out to grasp Alna’s hand. She didn’t lean in for a kiss like she normally did upon first seeing Alna.

  Alna didn’t initiate one.

  “Hello,” Alna returned, squeezing Marianna’s hand in a gesture of comfort. A few passing students cast them curious looks. Alna ignored them. There was no point in getting defensive at the present moment.

  “Hikari said she’d save us seats. You good to go?” Marianna asked. Alna nodded once.

  “I am.”

  As they joined the throng of students, Marianna glanced around occasionally, looking nervous. For all intents and purposes, Alna wasn’t supposed to attend Corday’s memorial, seeing as she was neither a current student nor had any connection to the teacher. It didn’t take a genius to realize that Marianna was apprehensive. However, Alna was more or less ignored by most of the students around them.

  It was the teachers that posed a true threat. Alna kept her head down, doing her best to remain inconspicuous. She’d opted not to wear a disguise this time around––mostly because the risks of being caught were not as high as they would be in another situation. Not to mention that, if she had run into one of Marianna’s friends, and they saw through her disguise, there would be some awkward explanations in their future.

  Alna allowed Marianna to guide her into the school’s personal auditorium and up the stairs until they reached the row Hikari was sitting in. As they maneuvered through the crowd of students, Alna couldn’t resist the urge to look around.

  The interior of Finley High had undergone some noticeable changes since the last time she had been here. The stage was covered with wood flooring, which looked as though it had been polished sometime within the last year or so. The theater-style chairs looked to be much more comfortable, with their wooden backrests covered with black cushions.

  There was a mixture of former teachers Alna recognized, along with men and women she had never once encountered in her life. That wasn't surprising. Although the principal, Gertrude Bovary, remained. She must have been nearing her fifties, as was evidenced by the hint of gray in her short auburn hair. Her grey eyes were still as stern and intelligent as ever.

  Alna attempted to avoid eye contact with her.

  “Hey, guys,” Hikari greeted when Alna and Marianna reached her. She had chosen a seat in the fifth row from the bottom and was sitting in the chair at the end. To her right were two empty seats, the two after that occupied by Sadie Fischer and Blaze Silvers. Marianna’s friends.

  Alna would never cease to find Blaze’s name amusing. When she finally told Marianna why that was so, she had burst into hysterical giggles, noting that his parents must have chosen his name deliberately.

  Marianna allowed Alna to shuffle ahead of her, which put Alna in a seat right next to Sadie. This earned her a curious look.

  “Hey,” Sadie said. Her fingers, Alna noted, were still spread out more than normal––continued evidence of her piano playing. “Mary didn’t say you were coming.” As if to back up her statement, she shot a playful glare past Alna.

  As Alna scanned the room, Marianna said, apologetically, “I forgot to mention it.”

  A woman was sitting in the bottom row, her chestnut hair pulled into a professional bun. From where Alna was sitting, it looked rather painful. Was that Ashley Corday? The hair colour was right. It was difficult to determine based on such a small detail, however.

  “Are other people even allowed to attend?” Blaze wondered. Alna spared him a sidelong glance before refocusing on the woman, trying to determine if she was, indeed, Ms. Corday.

  “I think so,” Sadie said. “Mr. Corday’s wife is here.”

  That was enough to tear Alna’s attention away from the woman. She refocused her gaze on Sadie, who had put her maroon hair up into a neat ponytail. Alna caught a whiff of almonds as she shifted and concluded it must be lotion. She must have been swimming recently.

  “She is?” Alna asked, injecting curiosity into her voice that was only somewhat faked. “Where?”

  “She’s––” Sadie began, only to be cut off by Principal Bovary, who was now trying to gather everyone’s attention.

  Principal Bovary started by announcing why they were all present, as if they didn’t already know, before introducing Ms. Corday. The woman that had captured Alna’s attention earlier stood from her seat and approached the microphone, stepping into a yellowish spotlight. It was obvious that the woman was grieving. Even from this distance, Alna could see the sheen of tears in her eyes, reflected by the spotlight. She had her hands clasped in front of her, wedding band glinting in the light. If Alna looked hard enough, she could swear she saw the slightest tremors in her hands.

  And yet, despite her palpable despair, there was an air of strength around Ms. Corday. She was a woman who didn’t need anyone to give her a purpose in life. The death of her husband would knock her down for a time, but Alna had no doubt that Mia Corday would put herself back together, ready once more to take on the world.

  Alna respected that.

  Ms. Corday wrapped her hand around the microphone, opening her mouth to start speaking. However, before she uttered a word, Ms. Corday appeared to become overwhelmed. She turned her head to the side, pressing the back of her wrist to her mouth as she regained her composure. Principal Bovary, who had taken to standing off to the side, took a step forward, looking concerned.

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  Alna saw Ms. Corday hold up a finger, showing she needed a moment. She felt Marianna take her hand, holding it tightly.

  A moment later, Ms. Corday spoke. She introduced herself by name, thanking everyone for coming, which Alna felt was ironic. It was clear to her that a good portion of the students in attendance were only there because they thought they had to be. Sure, there were a few that seemed aggrieved by Corday’s passing, but an overwhelming number of them looked as though they would prefer not to be here. Alna wondered if the teachers had threatened to mark them absent if they didn’t attend.

  Ms. Corday’s speech went on for a few minutes, explaining that she had only known Corday for three years––married for two––but had loved him, and so on. Alna only half listened, trying to resist the urge to retreat into her own head by observing the surrounding students. It wasn’t that she had no sympathy for Ms. Corday’s loss––she did––but as it was, her pain did not help solve her husband’s murder.

  Perhaps she should have shown up earlier; tried to talk to her before the ceremony.

  Alna doubted that would have worked out too well.

  Alna could almost feel Marianna’s sympathy as Ms. Corday went on. She cast a look at Marianna, taking in the upset look on her face, and gave Marianna’s hand a comforting squeeze. In response, she glanced over and gave Alna a wavering smile.

  Once Ms. Coday had wrapped up her speech, Principal Bovary played a video, showcasing various “memories” of Corday. Most of them were taken at a school function or another, with a few personal ones that Ms. Corday had likely allowed the usage of. At one point, Sadie shifted away from Alna, leaning toward Blaze.

  “I didn’t think Mr. Corday was capable of smiling,” Alna heard her murmur.

  Alna frowned. That was callous of her.

  Alna heard Blaze hum his agreement. Out of the corner of her eye, Alna saw Blaze stretch his arm across the back of Sadie’s chair. Sadie rolled her eyes but didn’t make him move it.

  The video––ten minutes and thirty-seven seconds long––ended. More speeches followed. Ms. Bovary presented a plaque that would be placed next to the memories of past teachers. “Gone, but not forgotten” was a rather generic quote, but it was respectful enough.

  Next came a speech from a student by the name of Jason McKinley, who expressed his respect for Corday. Alna surveyed him. Between the distance and lack of true character in his clothing, it was difficult to get a read on McKinley. It seemed improbable that a student could get away with such a gruesome murder––the images of Corday’s body had been fit for “Mature” rated horror movies––but it was not a notion she was willing to rule out yet. Perhaps there was a student who had taken their grudge too far, or there was someone who had a legitimate reason to want Corday dead. Alna’s research thus far had turned up no “dirt” on Corday yet, but she had no plans to back down.

  Finally, after an hour and a half, the ceremony ended.

  Thankfully, it appeared as if Ms. Corday had every intention of lingering. She stood next to the bright red curtain to Alna’s right so that the students passed her as they headed to the exit. Some students did, indeed, stop to offer their condolences to Ms. Corday. A few even gave her brief hugs.

  As the others in her row stood up, Alna remained seated. With the amount of students that occupied the auditorium (Alna estimated around two hundred), it would likely be some time before they could get to the stairs.

  Marianna glanced at her when Alna tugged on the sleeve of her turquoise sweater. She sat back down, leaning over so Alna could murmur in her ear.

  “I would like to talk to her for more than a few seconds, if possible,” Alna explained.

  Marianna frowned as she cast her eyes about the room, taking in the rather large amount of students who had yet to leave. “That should be okay,” she replied. “I don’t think it would look too weird.”

  She and Marianna had discussed Ms. Corday earlier, but it never hurt to reiterate their plans.

  “Are you two planning on moving anytime soon?” Sadie asked, sounding puzzled and annoyed. Blaze looked confused. Hikari frowned at them.

  Marianna looked up, the slightest bit of pink appearing on her cheeks, making her look even more beautiful. “Right. Sorry.” She stood, pulling Alna up with her. The group edged themselves sideways, toward the stairs that were now significantly less occupied. Despite this, it took a few minutes for them to reach the floor.

  There was still a small group of people blocking their way to Ms. Corday. Alna and Marianna hovered on the outskirts as they waited their turn. Marianna’s fingers brushed against Alna’s hand, although she didn’t try to link them again. Alna understood. She knew for a fact that Marianna was not ashamed of her or their relationship, but being in school was obviously unnerving her. It seemed she was trying to avoid barbed comments from her peers.

  “Why do you wanna talk to Mrs. Corday so much, anyway?” Hikari asked as the crowd shrunk even more. She and the other two had opted to stay with the girls, although it was clear they were becoming impatient. “I mean, I can understand Mary, but what about you, Alna?”

  Alna didn’t even have to concoct a response to that, having come up with one before she even arrived at the school.

  “Marianna and I almost went through something similar––because of Harlow Ashworth.” Blaze’s eyes softened in sympathy at Alna’s words, his frustration with them vanishing. “I am aware that our relationship was new at the time, but if something had happened to Marianna, I doubt I would have ever recovered.” As she said this, Alna locked eyes with Marianna, who was gazing up at her with conflicting emotions. Her eyes––always so expressive––showed an echo of the fear she had felt in those terrifying moments.

  Alna reached out to touch Marianna’s hand, stripping herself of every wall and mask she had built over the years. She allowed Marianna to see the truth in her words.

  Marianna relaxed after a moment, having seen Alna’s sincerity. She smiled at Alna, her eyes sparkling

  “Oh,” Sadie said in a soft voice. “That makes sense.” Hikari voiced her agreement, suddenly subdued. Blaze reached out to grip Marianna’s arm in a comforting manner.

  “If it’s all right with everyone, I’m going to lunch now.” His eyes darted over Marianna’s head, landing on Alna. “You can join us if you want.”

  Alna thought about it for a moment.

  “I would like that,” Alna agreed with a slight nod. “We will join you in a moment.” From the corner of her eye, Alna saw Marianna smile at her again. She took Alna’s hand, intertwining their fingers.

  The trio left. Marianna and Alna continued to wait to speak with Ms. Corday. Principal Bovary, who had not yet left the auditorium, gave Alna a puzzled glance, clearly trying to place where she’d seen her before. She did not, however, seem bothered by Alna’s presence, which was a definite advantage.

  The boy that had been talking to Ms. Corday walked off, providing Alna and Marianna with a chance with her. Ms. Corday turned exhausted, yet determined eyes on them.

  “Hi, Mrs. Corday,” Marianna greeted, stepping forward to shake the woman’s hand. “I’m Marianna Whitlock; Mr. Corday taught me science. I wanted to say I’m very sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you,” Ms. Corday replied with a tired smile. It didn’t quite reach her eyes.

  Alna introduced herself next, watching Ms. Corday’s reactions intently. The horror of finding her mutilated husband still lingered in her countenance, in every line of her body. Ms. Corday’s eyelids would flutter from time to time, her eyes taking on a faraway look as she no doubt relived the terror over and over again. Her eyes shifted from side to side, her posture adjusting in a way that made her look like a hunted animal. And then, catching herself, Ms. Corday would stiffen her posture, composed once more. The hunted deer became the determined wolf.

  “If you don’t mind me asking,” Alna said, keeping her voice low and sympathetic. “I wanted to ask… the teachers have been so vague. I was wondering what happened.”

  Ms. Corday’s face hardened, a mask slamming into place almost as fast as a blink. “I’m certain the newspapers will cover that,” she said, her eyes surveying Alna coldly. Alna wondered if that was how she looked to others.

  Principal Bovary was frowning at them in a way that had less to do with confusion now and more to do with disapproval. She took a step forward, ready to intervene.

  Alna took a step back, lowering her chin in a gesture of apology. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I didn’t mean to offend.” That part was true. She had no desire to cause Ms. Corday any more pain. But she and Marianna needed all the information they could gather, and this was already impossible enough. If they had any hope of gleaning anything useful from Ms. Corday, then wounded feelings were inevitable.

  “We were just curious,” Marianna explained, sounding guilty. Alna knew for a fact it wasn’t faked. “I’m sorry if we caused any problems.”

  Ms. Corday deflated at that, the deer returning once more. She reached up a hand to rub at her eyes. “No, I’m sorry. You girls didn’t deserve that.” She straightened, that brave and broken look reappearing on her face. Smoothing down her dark green dress, she said, “It was horrifying, but I’m sure the police will find out what happened.”

  At her words, Ms. Corday’s eyes flicked over Alna’s shoulder, landing on something behind her. Alna glanced in the same direction, her eyes landing on Noah Pratt, the very teacher who had already been questioned about Corday’s death.

  He was staring at Ms. Corday with intensity, a strange look in his eyes.

  Interesting.