Page 83 of Savage Elites

I could have said that she still lived in our hearts or some other cliché, but it would be like a slap in the face. A meaningless platitude that only served to make the speaker feel better.

“Cormac.” I wrapped my arms around his shoulders. “I know how gut-wrenching it feels to lose the last part of a loved one, but you’re not alone.”

He shook his head. “It was always Corrine and me until…”

“But you have me,” I said. “It doesn’t matter if you go to Oxford and I go to Cambridge. You’ve been with me through some terrible situations, and I’ll be with you for as long as you need me.”

He pulled his hands away from his face and stared into his lap. “Do you mean that?”

“With all my heart.”

We sat side-by-side in the infirmary with our arms wrapped around each other, each commiserating on our mutual losses. Why hadn’t Ashely and I banded together like this in the face of Mom and Dad’s accident? It had only driven us further apart.

Cormac and I had both lost siblings—his to death, and mine to betrayal—but at that moment, I truly felt what it meant to have a brother.

* * *

Mrs. Benazir wasn’t in her office, and I left a message with her receptionist informing her that I needed a new set of books and uniforms. Throughout the morning, I kept wondering who might have burned my things. Bianca? It would be twisted of her to leave twenty-five thousand pounds on my bed in the evening, only to burn all my stuff in the morning.

I sat next to Leopold in Economics, tapping my fingers against my bottom lip.

He leaned into me and whispered, “It was Claymore.”

“She’s at the top of my list of suspects,” I muttered. “She probably has a skeleton key for every room.”

“Probably?” Leopold scoffed. After looking from left to right, he whispered, “Seb went through a phase where he spent every night on Kash’s sofa so that you-know-who wouldn’t steal into his room with her fist of fury.”

I wrinkled my nose, trying not to picture a furious Miss Claymore on top of my boyfriend. “Why didn’t he stay with you?”

Leopold raised his brows. “The big dipper comes out at night, where it shines both strong and bright.”

“Is that your way of telling me you’re a man-whore?”

He pressed a hand on his chest. “Reformed, unpaid man-of-the-night. Now I’m faithful to one-third of a woman and still awaiting my smothering.”

“Mr. Brunswick?” Mr. Fisher stormed across the room. “Would you like to share your conversation with the rest of the class?”

“Why, certainly, my good sir.” Leopold stood. “I was reciting a composition I made. An ode to man’s best friend: his penis.”

Laughter broke out across the room, and I slid down my seat. That wasn’t even funny, so why was I laughing?

“Get out!” Mr. Fisher roared.

Leopold shrugged. “A man can’t be faulted for doing as he’s told.”

The next class of the day was English. An elderly man took the place of the previous teacher who had stuttered and shaken throughout the lesson. While he didn’t have Miss Claymore’s flare or enthusiasm for the subject, he knew what he was talking about and could make himself understood.

I explained to the kings why I wanted to spend a bit of time with Cormac. Surprisingly, they understood, and no one made any disparaging comments about my best friend.

Mr. Blunt wandered into the lecture theater with his flat cap in his hands. His gaze swept around the room until it landed on me.

He addressed the new teacher. “Excuse me, sir, I have a message from Mrs. Benazir.”

“Go on,” said the old man.

The caretaker’s eyes rolled upward as though he was memorizing from a list. “Miss Evergreen, Miss Byrd, and Miss Hill are wanted at the headmistress’s office.”

Cormac stood. “I’ll escort the ladies.”