Page 38 of Wicked Elites

“I don’t know, but someone’s been harassing me with anonymous notes. Now they’ve escalated and turned my side of the room upside-down and torn up a family picture.”

She tilted her head to the side and placed her hands on her hips. “A picture. Was there another harassing note?”

“No.” I shook my head. “There might have been. I was so distracted by the torn picture. My mom painted it before she died, and it has sentimental value.”

Her stern features softened. “Of course. I thought you were referring to a photo. Alright, let’s go to your room and see what else the culprit left.”

We walked together in silence through the hallways to the west wing and up the stairs. My stomach roiled with dread, and bile rose to the back of my throat. The author of the first note had wanted me to stay away from Sebastian. I hadn’t voluntarily spoken to him since the incident in the swimming block. What more did they want?

Miss Claymore paused at my door. “You don’t have to come inside if it’s too disturbing, and we can arrange alternative accommodation for you and your sister.”

I nodded my thanks and waited out in the hallway.

With a sharp, inward breath, the deputy headmistress flung the door open and stepped into the room. A heartbeat later, she said, “Oh.”

I held my breath. What on earth had she found?

“Miss Evergreen, are you sure the picture was there? I don’t see any mess.”

I stepped into my room. Everything had been tidied up, and they’d even cleared the broken glass and ripped up portrait.

“It was ransacked earlier,” I whispered. “And earlier in the week, someone left a note telling me to stay away from Sebastian Garraway.”

“Where is it?”

“Ashley ripped it up.” Miss Claymore opened her mouth to protest, but I said, “I’m not lying. She’ll tell you it existed.”

She pursed her lips and stared at me through those piercing, black eyes. My posture sagged. This situation was so messed up. The culprit was now gaslighting me by clearing up their mess, and now I looked like an attention seeker or someone with behavioral problems.

“Look,” she said with as much compassion as she could muster with that sharp voice. “I want to give you the benefit of the doubt, but without evidence, there’s no one to punish. May I suggest you lock your doors to prevent people from accessing your room?”

I bristled. Mom and Dad had taught us basic home security from an early age, but I nodded anyway. It was clear that she didn’t know what to believe.

“The next time someone sends a threatening note, keep it, and we’ll see if the police would be interested in dusting it for fingerprints.”

My shoulders sagged. If only Ashley hadn’t been so hasty to destroy that letter. Now, if anything happened, I wouldn’t be able to establish a pattern of systematic bullying to get the perpetrators punished.

“Thanks, Miss,” I said with a sigh. “I’ll just search around and see if they did anything else.”

“Of course. Take your time.” She stepped out of the room and let the door click shut.

I turned my head to the ceiling and blew out a long breath. Whoever had done this was sick. The worst part was that I couldn’t figure out who would hate me enough to go to such lengths. The kings’ pranks had been minor, and they had stemmed from rejecting Sebastian and Leopold. I couldn’t see either of them creating those notes.

Oddly, I also couldn’t see Geraldine and Bianca sneaking behind my back to smash up a portrait, mess up my room and straighten it out again. What was the point of such far-fetched, clandestine activities when they couldn’t boast and sneer about it in front of an adoring audience?

I went down on my hands and knees and checked under the bed. Maybe they’d stuffed something incriminating down there. I only found my empty cases. Next, I tried the closets and the drawers. Everything had been returned to its proper place. I shook my head and lowered myself into a wooden armchair. This was futile.

Something hard protruded into my spine, and I pulled back the seat cushion. A thick, leather tome lay against the wood frame. It was black and embroidered with a pentacle within a circle. I flipped open the first page and read its title.

DIARY OF CORRINE GIBBONS

AGED THIRTEEN AND A QUARTER

201516 1953185202113

“What the hell is this?”

Chapter 9