Page 37 of The Bargain

William shrugs mulishly. “How should I remember?”

I whip my head to the side to look at Austen, who tells me the truth with all the delicacy of a sledgehammer to the face. “We had an argument.”

“What?” I stop in my tracks, and the twins almost fall into each other as they lurch around to look at me. “You two argued with Ophelia? Why?”

The twins exchange a glance. A bad sign.

“It wasn’t really an argument,” mutters William.

“We’re just trying to keep her out of trouble,” Austen adds.

“It was more like a disagreement,” William continues, overlapping his brother. “You see, there’s a Halloween party at Benjamin Montgomery’s house, and⁠—”

“Benjamin?” I frown. “Are you sure?”

Benjamin Montgomery is the last member of the so-called Blood Brotherhood. He’s also head boy—and one of this year’s Spearcrest Apostles, the academic excellence programme started by the former headmaster, Mr Ambrose.

He’s competing for a prestigious scholarship at Oxford, where he’s planning to read politics, and with his bitter rival Emerald on his heels at every turn, I doubt he’d want to do anything to jeopardise his chances with the programme.

So why on earth is he throwing a party of all things?

“You two and your sister are all strictly forbidden from attending this party.”

I speak so suddenly and so firmly that both of them start, stepping back. They exchange another look, eyes widening, mouths opening to say something, but I hold up a finger.

“Don’t.” My voice is ice cold, my hands curled into fists. “Not a word. Let me make this perfectly clear: if I see either of you at this party—worse, if I see Ophelia there—I’m going to put you both on the detention register every single day for the rest of my time in Spearcrest. I swear it.”

They glare at me, outraged.

“Even if it’s just Ophelia who goes?” Austen says.

“Especially then.” I give them both a sharp, final smile. “Try me.”

But of course, they wouldn’t dare. Not because I swore I’d give them a year’s worth of detentions.

Because I’ve done it before.

It’s only afterwards, when I’m hopelessly checking my phone between English class and maths class for a text from Ophelia, that I realise I never got around to asking the twins about the argument they had with her. I pause in the middle of the corridor, by the tomb-shaped embrasure of a window, and turn to gaze out of it without seeing, lost in thought.

Should I ask Ophelia about the argument? They said it had something to do with the party. But what would be the point? Ophelia’s not answering my texts anyway.

Is she really planning on showing up to the party? Surely not—she’s fifteen, and there’s no chance Benjamin Montgomery of all people would ever want a fifteen-year-old at his party. His parents’ mansion is practically a national heritage monument, and besides, Benjamin might be the only person in Spearcrest who hates parties more than I do.

I pull out my phone and I type out a text:

Desdemona Sutton-Knight: What’s this about a Halloween party?

I send it to three people: Blaise, who knows everything and everyone in Spearcrest. Benjamin himself, the unlikely culprit at the heart of this brand new incoming disaster. And Emerald Carver, who I can only describe as the poison in Benjamin’s veins.

Outside, there’s a deep, ominous rumble. A hush falls on the grounds, and soon, the trees and rooftops of Spearcrest half-disappear beneath a thick mist of rain.

I turn away from the window with a sigh.

No wonder Mum hated this place.

When I step out of history class, my bag heavy with books and thick sheaves of past papers and exemplar material, I find an avalanche of texts awaiting me—and not one of them providing me with the information I was after.

William Sutton-Knight: Don’t worry about Ophelia, ok? We’re keeping her out of trouble.