Chapter 80

Ruby

Edith is sitting in the armchair by my fireplace when I enter my room.

“Well well,” she says, uncrossing her legs. She stands and saunters toward me with her arms folded across her chest. “Look who came home.”

“Oh, piss off, Edith,” I growl, tossing my boots down on the floor. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Aw, but you sure were in the mood to sneak out of the castle against your mate’s wishes, weren’t you?” she says. She crosses over to my vanity, picking up my tube of lipstick and turning it over in her hand, then smirks and pockets it.

“Yeah, I was,” I say, brushing past her and heading into the bathroom to take my makeup off. “And I’m glad that I went, because a friend needed me,” I say.

It feels strange to call Beck my friend, but I mean it. If I hadn’t been there at the party to stop Earl from going further and revealing his disgusting behavior to the entire school, who knows how many more girls he would have hurt in the future.

“Well, let’s just say this,” Edith says condescendingly as she leans pompously against the frame of the bathroom door, “I saw you that day in Greenwood, trying to swindle your way back into getting that brooch.”

“I wasn’t swindling anything,” I respond. “It was my mother’s brooch and I decided that I want it back.”

“All the more reason for you not to have it,” Edith says with a smirk. She comes over to me and forcefully grabs the back of my neck.

“Ouch! Hey!” I yell, but her grip is too tight. She grabs my hairbrush and starts combing out my hair, not caring about how hard she rips through it with the brush.

“I decided that I want that brooch,” she says as she unceremoniously brushes through my hair. “And if you try to buy it at the auction, I’ll tell Atwood about your little party.”

Finally I manage to wrench myself away from Edith and grab the brush out of her hand.

“Why the hell do you even want it so bad?” I ask with a scowl.

Edith simply shrugs, pushing her lower lip out in a pout. “No real reason,” she says. “Frankly, I think the thing is really ugly.”

She saunters back to the door, pausing as she reaches it. “I just figure that if you can just swoop in and take what I want, then I should be able to do the same to you. Toodles!”

With that, Edith skips out of my room like a giddy schoolgirl.

I clench my fists in anger and storm over to my door, locking it tightly. Edith has no right to blackmail me into not getting back my mother’s brooch, nor does she have a right to come into my room and put her greasy hands on me.

“Whatever,” I whisper to myself, taking a large breath to calm myself down. It’s almost midnight now, and after what happened at the party, I just want to go to bed. Once I finish taking off my makeup and get into my pajamas, I crawl into bed and quickly fall asleep.

When I wake up, the sun is shining far brighter than it normally does. Groaning, my head aching from the alcohol I drank last night, I pick up my phone to see a text from midnight last night from Nancy.

It reads: “Beck is here safe and sound. My parents are gonna take care of Earl. Screw that guy! Girls gotta stick together!”

I can’t help but smile a bit at Nancy’s message. She’s right; girls do have to stick together.

My smile fades, however, when I see the time. It’s nearly noon, and I was supposed to have breakfast with Atwood!

I jump out of bed and quickly dress and brush my teeth, then run down the hallway and toward the dining hall. When I reach the dining hall, Atwood is still there. He’s standing by the window, staring out at the snowy landscape.

“Have a nice rest?” he says, not turning to look at me.

My shoulders sink with embarrassment. “I’m… I’m sorry,” I say quietly. “I overslept.”

Atwood looks over his shoulder at me and nods his head for me to join him. I cross the room to stand next to him. He doesn’t seem angry; just a little disappointed.

“Sunny day, isn’t it?” he says. “Seems like a good day for some fresh air. Come on, let’s go outside.”

He takes my hand and leads me over to the front door, where we put on our coats and step out into the brisk December air. It almost feels warm with the sun shining so brightly. My head still hurts from the alcohol last night.

“Here,” Atwood says, pulling a pair of sunglasses out of his coat pocket as we cross the lawn to the garden. “For your head.”

I gingerly take the sunglasses and put them on, my face turning red as I realize that he knows.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I know I should’ve listened to you.”

“It’s alright,” Atwood replies. “I did all sorts of crazy stuff like that when I was in my senior year of high school. I’m just glad that you’re alright.” He opens the gate to the garden and gestures for me to enter. All that’s left in the garden right now are green shrubs and snow-covered statues -- some of which were broken during the attack on my birthday. I wonder what sort of flowers grow here in the spring and summer.

At the far end of the garden, there’s a large birch tree. Its leaves have long since fallen, but it still looks beautiful with bits of snow piled on the branches and glistening icicles hanging down. Atwood takes my hand again and guides me over to the tree. There’s a bench underneath, which he wipes off with his coat sleeve so that we can sit. He pulls me close as we sit, rubbing my shoulder.

“As it turns out, it was actually kind of a good thing that I was there,” I confess. Atwood looks at me with a puzzled expression on his face. “The night of the homecoming dance, I had a vision about Beck and Earl from my class. Earl was assaulting Beck in my vision. I’ve tried warning her since then, but she didn’t listen. Last night, though, the vision came true… And I was there to save her.”

Atwood sighs and passes his hand over his face. “I always knew there was something up with that boy,” he says quietly. “Is she okay?”

Hot tears prick at the backs of my eyes. “She’ll be okay,” I say. “I just wish I had gotten there just a minute earlier.”

“It’s alright,” Atwood says, squeezing my arm gently. “Just be glad that you were there at all. But next time, I wish you would listen to me when I ask you not to go out. It’s dangerous out there, with the Bears.”

With a nod, I look up at the tree above us. The icicles shine in the sunlight, dripping like a gentle rain in the warmth. For a moment, I feel safe here, completely forgetting all about the impending curse. I haven’t felt any symptoms yet, but I wonder when they’ll set in.

I stand from the bench, sticking my hands in my pockets. “I think I’m going to get something to eat,” I say.

Atwood nods and leans back on the bench. “I’ll be out here for a while longer,” he says with a gentle smile.

As I walk back to the castle, food is far from my mind. I want to read Vivian’s letters. I want to discover more about this curse before it’s too late.