Page 253 of Depraved Boys

My jaw dropped, as did the hand holding the camera. I turned to Sebastian, who winced, then to Leopold, who scowled. Miss Claymore strolled to the door and let herself out.

For several minutes, nobody spoke. I remained behind the bathroom door in case Miss Claymore burst in and tried to get my smartphone, while Leopold placed a brand new wedge under the door.

“What do you want me to do?” I whispered.

“Upload the video to youtube, back it up in the cloud, and send it to Mrs. Brunswick,” Sebastian said with a snarl. “This time, she’s gone too far.”

My phone rang. It was an unknown mobile, and probably Mr. Byrd telling me he would destroy whatever item of mine he had pilfered. The asshole had kept it for nearly two weeks, and I hadn’t even noticed it was missing. I clicked the answer button, ready to give him a piece of my mind, and snapped, “Yes?”

“Hello?” said the voice of an old woman. “It’s Mrs. Ochill from number fifty-four.”

A bolt of panic shot through my chest. “Is everything alright?”

“Someone’s been prowling around your house. I called the police, but when I told them it was unoccupied, they said a squad car would be around in the morning.”

My mind whirred. So, the prowler couldn’t have been Miss Claymore. I doubted that Mr. Byrd would travel three-hundred miles to sneak around an empty house. “Right. Thanks for telling me.”

The old woman said goodbye and hung up.

Sebastian placed a hand on my shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“We need to go to Cummersdale.” I turned from Sebastian to Leopold. “The prowler has returned.”

CHAPTER SIXTY

Since it was early on Saturday morning and Mr. Blunt had removed the clamps from the jeep, we piled into Sebastian’s car and set off for Cummersdale. Clouds streaked over the moon and stars, plunging the mountains into intermittent darkness. At times, the road seemed too narrow, with trees arching over us like creeping specters. When the road widened into two lanes, the trees disappeared, revealing deep, fathomless valleys that made my stomach lurch.

Visibility was abysmal, with the headlights illuminating a mere few feet ahead. The times when the road seemed to end abruptly were the worst, as it indicated a treacherous, hairpin turn. Sebastian took the sharp bends with great care. Leopold drummed his fingers on the dashboard, and I held onto the edges of my seat, squirming with impatience and trepidation.

I forced deep breaths in and out of my lungs. Sebastian was a careful driver, but tonight’s encounter with Miss Claymore had been harrowing enough to affect anyone’s reflexes. As much as I wanted to reach out and ask him how he felt about the deputy head’s parting words, I couldn’t distract him.

“At least this proves one thing,” Leopold said, cutting through my musings.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Claymore wasn’t behind the break-in at your cottage.”

“You think it was a random burglar?” asked Sebastian.

He shrugged. “My money’s on Mr. Byrd.”

A shiver ran down my back. “He blames me for the break up of his family.”

Leopold twisted around in his seat. “But not for pushing Bianca off the east wing. Did you notice that?”

“He already knows who maimed his daughter,” I muttered.

As soon as we left the mountain and joined the well-lit highway, the tension in the air melted. Leopold and Sebastian laughed about tackling Miss Claymore, and I relaxed into the back seat. If that had been Mr. Byrd breaking into our room and needing to be physically restrained, I certainly wouldn’t smile about it—ever.

My mind drifted to the cottage, and I hoped the intruder hadn’t set it on fire. A pang of sadness pierced my chest, spreading cold toward my limbs. With Uncle Trevor so busy with his young family and Ashley in Ibiza, living her dream life with DJ Bones, that home really was my last connection with Mom and Dad.

I shook off those thoughts. Mrs. Ochill would have called again if she’d noticed any smoke.

By the time we reached Cummersdale, the clouds had cleared, revealing an indigo sky bright with the moon and stars. Their silvery light reflected on the white rendering on our cottage. Swallowing hard, I shook my head. It was my cottage now. Thanks to Sebastian and Mr. Pinkerton, the property was now registered in my name. All the lights were off, making me hope the intruder had already left.

Leopold stepped out of the car, holding two cricket bats. I clutched at the huge flashlight I had picked up on my way out of the academy, opened the car door, and stepped out into the warm night.

Sebastian exited and took one of the bats from Leopold before turning to me. “We’ll enter in single file. I want you in the middle,” he whispered. “That way, if the prowler circles back and attacks from behind, he still won’t get at you.”