Impossible.
Think about how much pressure she was under. Her mother was relentless.
Lots of parents are relentless. That doesn’t mean Courtney killed her.
Regardless, we have to prepare for a guilty verdict.
All day. The conversations went on all day.
Sonia had tried to stop going into the Porter Room, where everyone watched the news during breaks, but she couldn’t. The least she could do was make her view known: There was simply no chance Courtney had killed her mother. Sonia made that point very loud and very clear.
Despite the text messages Courtney had sent to her friends, wishing her mother was dead. Despite the poison—whatever it was—supposedly found on their property. Despite how much pressure Ingrid had put on Courtney.
Despite all of that, Sonia refuses to believe it. The idea that anyone thinks otherwise is enough to make her go back out to the couch and get another spoonful of ice cream.
35
IN THE MORNING, Frank stumbles into school. His head feels like it’s going to explode, in part because he didn’t get any sleep. Not after he saw Courtney standing at the foot of his bed.
He had just drifted off when he jerked awake. There she was, standing over him, wearing her school uniform. She had a notebook in her hand and a pen in the other, poised and ready to start taking notes. Just how she used to look in class.
Frank bolted upright so fast, he woke Missy.
By then, Courtney was gone.
He knew it wasn’t real, that she wasn’t in his house and never had been, but he still couldn’t get back to sleep. For the rest of the night, he wondered if it was possible she was haunting him. While he had never heard of a living person haunting someone, he started to think it was possible.
The person who should be haunting him is Ingrid, but he hasn’t seen her yet.
A week ago, he didn’t believe in ghosts at all. Or hauntings.
Now, he might.
He avoids the Porter Room and the lounge, staying in his classroom even during the breaks. Sleep still doesn’t come, not even when he puts his feet up on the desk. Out of the corner of his eye, Courtney is there. Watching him. Waiting to take notes.
With no other option, he starts googling “haunted by living person.” All that does is give him a bunch of sites about stalking.
If only it were that easy.
During his last class, he tells the students to work on the problem on the board, then he leaves the room. In theory, to use the restroom. In reality, to escape Courtney. Some of his other students are starting to look like her.
Sleep. He really needs sleep.
He strolls down the empty hallway. Paces up and down it, actually. Thinks about going to the police.
That fantasy is interrupted by Sonia.
She’s at the end of the hallway, standing still, not moving. He waves and walks toward her.
She doesn’t wave back.
As Frank gets closer, he sees how pale she looks. Sonia places her hand on the wall as if to steady herself.
“Hey,” he says, walking a little faster. “Are you okay?”
Sonia looks up at him, her eyes glassy, and she shakes her head no.
Now, he can see the sweat on her face and her neck. As he reaches out to her, because she looks like she’s about to faint, her whole body starts jerking around—arms, torso, head. Almost like she’s doing a strange sort of dance.
He’s trying to grab her arm when her body jerks again and she falls to the floor.
A seizure. She’s having some sort of seizure. Her body continues to convulse, and Frank puts his hand under her head to stop her from banging it against the floor.
His first thought: She’s possessed.
Especially when her eyes roll back into her head.
But then she stops breathing.
36
AS FAR AS Teddy is concerned, there are two types of people in the world. The first are those who say “Think of the children.” They say it loud, they say it often, and they post it all over social media.
The second are those who actually think of the children and then do something to help them. Not many go the extra mile to make sure kids are protected.
He does.
And given that he’s sitting in a room filled with people who educate children, it’s disappointing so few are like him.
It’s late in the evening, well after dark, and the headmaster has called an emergency meeting at the school about Sonia Benjamin.
The late Sonia Benjamin.
“Her sudden death is a great shock to everyone. Most of all the students,” the headmaster says, shaking his head after every phrase. “Given her age, the medical examiner has already said he will perform an autopsy.”
Perfect. That’s exactly what needs to happen. Exactly what Teddy had expected.
While the headmaster drones on about counseling, Teddy tunes him out. He glances around at his colleagues, counting how many are crying. Trying to figure out which ones are faking it.
Not that it’s difficult. He’s sure his wife used to do the same thing.
Or ex-wife, he should say. If he ever signs the papers.
They’d arrived from her lawyer the day after Christmas. She’d planned it that way, no doubt. For maximum pain.
Allison doesn’t want anything. Not half the house, half the retirement funds, half the bank accounts. All she wants is a divorce. One day, perhaps, he will grant it. But for now, the papers sit on his desk—formerly her desk—and that’s where they’ll stay.
* * *
AFTER MORE HEADSHAKING and so many tears, fake and real, the meeting finally ends. Several of the teachers plan to go get a drink before heading home, and they ask Teddy to join them. Any other time, he would have said no. This evening he says yes.
They end up at a sad little place with bad lighting and scuffed tables. Teddy orders a tonic and lime, even though it’s disgustingly bitter, but it makes everyone think he’s drinking.
Neither Ms. Marsha nor the headmaster is present, so Nari Tam assumes the leadership position. She isn’t the oldest or the longest-serving faculty member, but she did go to Belmont. She’s part of the family. And one of the few who isn’t white. Belmont is a distinctly pale school.
“To Sonia,” she says, standing up and raising her glass. She’s wearing black, her dark eyes looking a bit teary. “She was our colleague and our friend, and may she rest in peace.”
“To Sonia,” everyone repeats, clinking glasses all around.
“The first day I met her,” someone says, starting the memory portion of the evening, “she gave me a tour of the school, and what I remember most is how everything came back to the students. That was her whole focus.”
“She loved the kids so much. I think that’s why she didn’t have any,” Nari says. “She considered her students to be her kids.”
Lots of nodding.
“She said that once,” someone else says. “That she didn’t need to have kids because she already had enough.”
A few people laugh. A few others cry.
Teddy listens to his coworkers rewrite history, the way people do when someone dies. He even chimes in with his own story. “When I picture Sonia, I always see her carrying that coffee cup,” he says. “That big red coffee cup.”
Someone laughs. “Yes! It says ‘Teaching Is My Superpower.’ ”
“I think a student gave that to her,” Nari says.
“I’m sure,” Teddy says, although he doesn’t believe that. Sonia was the type who would buy that cup for herself.
After an hour of reminiscing, the group starts to break up. It’s only then that they get around to talking about the way she died. As if it would’ve been insensitive to start with that topic.
“It has to be something natural, right?” someone says.<
br />
“Absolutely,” says Nari. “There’s no way we’ve had two murders at Belmont.”
Everyone nods, but they don’t look sure.
Good.
On the way out of the bar, Frank stops him in the parking lot. He was so quiet all night that Teddy forgot he was there.
“Are you okay?” Teddy asks. Everyone knows Frank is the one who found Sonia in the hallway.
“No.” Frank shakes his head back and forth with a bit too much violence. “I’m not okay.”
Teddy waits.
“Something wasn’t right about Sonia,” Frank finally says. “That wasn’t . . . It wasn’t like a heart attack. She was, I don’t know, convulsing. Or having a seizure.”
“A seizure? Like an epileptic seizure?”
“I don’t know. The paramedic asked me the same thing, and I told them it just didn’t look right. I don’t know how else to explain it.”
Teddy places his hand on Frank’s shoulder. “Go home to your family and get some rest. You’ve had an awful day.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Frank says. He walks away, shoulders slumped, head hanging low.
Teddy drives home feeling a little bad about Frank. It was unfortunate he was the one who found Sonia, especially given how hard he was taking Courtney’s arrest, but Teddy couldn’t help that. Someone had to find her.
He also feels a little bit bad about Sonia. It’s not remorse. Not even regret. Teddy did what had needed to be done, and he can’t regret that. What he’s doing is fixing his mistake, the one that put Courtney in jail.
And now Sonia won’t be testifying against her.
As far as Teddy could tell, this was the only way. Plus, he got away with killing someone the first time. Why not a second?
37
THE ONLY SOUND at the table is the clink of silverware. Zach takes a bite of his almond-crusted salmon and washes it down with bubbly water.
His mom sits across from him, his dad next to him. This is the first family dinner they’ve had in months. The food was brought in from Arendale, his mother’s favorite restaurant. No one in the Ward house cooks.
“I thought it would be good for us to spend some time together,” Mom says. “Given what happened today at school.”
“It’s unbelievably tragic,” Dad says. “Sonia Benjamin was a fine woman.”
Zach nods. He’s still a little dazed about what happened. It was at the end of the day when he heard the sirens. His first thought was that the police had come to arrest someone for killing Ingrid. Someone other than Courtney.
Instead, someone else was dead. No one knows why, or what happened, but a bunch of rumors are already making the rounds online.
“She was a good teacher,” Zach says.
“Yes, she was.” Dad pauses to take a sip of water. No one drinks alcohol in the Ward home, not unless there are guests. Too much work and no time for fun. “I spoke to her many times and always found her to be a reasonable, intelligent woman.”
Zach doesn’t add that Mrs. B always did what Dad wanted her to do. That’s why he liked her so much.
“There’s just been so many traumatic events over the past months,” Mom says. “First Ingrid, then Courtney. And now, this . . .” She reaches across the table but can’t quite reach Zach’s hand. The table is too big. “How are you doing, Zach? Really, how are you?”
Even if Zach knew how to answer that question, he wouldn’t. Not with both of his parents staring at him.
“I’m still processing it,” he says. They like those kinds of words. Processing is something they understand.
Dad nods. “It will just take some time.”
“And, of course, if you want to talk to someone, I can arrange that,” Mom says. “A partner at my firm is married to one of the finest psychologists in the area. Shall I make an appointment?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Well, you just let me know,” she says.
“Okay,” he says.
The silverware starts clinking again as they fall back into silence. Zach senses that something is coming, but he isn’t sure what.
His parents wait until they’re done eating. The business way of doing things. People don’t talk about the difficult things at the start of a meal, because if everything goes sideways, you still have to eat together. No one wants to do that when they’re angry. Zach’s father taught him well.
“Given everything that’s been happening at Belmont,” Dad says, “your mother and I have been wondering if it’s the best place for you.”
“You want me to change schools?” Zach says, unable to control himself. “Now?”
His parents exchange a look, and Mom takes over. “It’s just something we’re discussing. There is a very good school I’m looking at in Vermont.”
“Vermont?”
“Zach,” Dad says. “Belmont’s reputation has taken a huge hit. This trial is turning into a circus. And now, with this unfortunate event today . . .”
“We just want what’s best for you,” Mom says.
Zach stares down at his sautéed spinach. A month ago, a year ago, two years ago, he would’ve jumped at the chance to go to a boarding school in Vermont. To get out of this house, out of his cloudy room.
But not right now. Not with Courtney in jail and about to go on trial for murder. He can’t leave her.
“Do I have a say in this?” Zach says.
“Well,” Dad says, “if you hadn’t gotten an A-minus in English last semester, maybe you would have a say.”
* * *
ZACH GOES STRAIGHT up to his room to get away from his parents. He’s on the verge of saying something he’ll regret. In his dad’s eyes, a lack of self-restraint is a sign of immaturity.
A man who cannot control himself will never be successful.
As soon as he’s alone, he wants to throw something. Anything. Instead, he screams into his pillow.
That A-minus.
No matter how hard Zach had worked or how many hours he’d spent on his final essay, Crutcher still gave him an A-minus. And, given how much the teacher hated him, Zach had accepted it. At least it wasn’t a B-plus.
Besides, he’d had too much on his mind after Courtney was arrested. He’d also had too much to do. The Bugle took up an extraordinary amount of time.
None of that mattered to Dad, who still hadn’t let up about that grade.
At one time, Zach had planned to get on Crutcher’s good side. The idea had been put off and then abandoned. He’d never thought it would come back to bite him in the shape of Vermont.
Ignoring all of social media—especially the rumors about Mrs. B—Zach turns to Google.
Theodore Crutcher, Belmont Academy
Within minutes, he knows where Crutcher went to school, how long he has been teaching, where he lives, and how much he paid for his house. He also learns that Crutcher’s wedding anniversary is August 11 and his wife’s name is Allison.
Zach remembers the card he found in Crutcher’s desk, the one for the fertility doctor. He wonders if Allison ever got pregnant.
Allison Crutcher
A picture of her pops up on the screen, surprising Zach.
He knows her.
38
THE ONLY LIGHT in the room comes from Teddy’s laptop. It’s long past his usual bedtime, and he’s drinking coffee, not milk. All the students are online tonight, and they’re talking about Sonia’s death.
Using his Natasha profile, Teddy maneuvers around, checking in on every conversation. Usually, their talk is rather banal, even boring, but tonight they’re letting loose.
Mrs. B was getting pretty heavy, wouldn’t be surprised if she had a heart attack.
Drugs, has to be drugs. I bet half the teachers use them.
I saw her eating a cheeseburger last week. Her diet was shit.
; Agree with heart attack. She was totally unhealthy.
I liked her. I’m sorry she’s gone.
OMG this is SO SAD. WHAT IS HAPPENING?
Calm down, people die every day.
At our school, they do.
Those are the students who think Sonia’s death was natural. Another group is convinced it wasn’t. Teddy participates in this conversation.
Is it possible we’ve had TWO murders at Belmont?
I mean, what if someone did kill her?
If it’s poison, it has to be arsenic or cyanide.
Um, there’s like a million poisons in the world. Not two.
WHY WOULD ANYONE POISON MRS. B?
Right?? I can think of at least ten other teachers that would be murdered before her.
But what if it is? My parents are gonna lose it.
We’ll know soon if we’re right.
If it’s a murder, the media is going to blow up.
Is this going to affect my college applications?
Oh shit, I didn’t even think of that.
My parents will totally sue if it hurts my college chances.
You can’t sue for that.
How do you know?
My dad is a judge.
If you didn’t commit the murder, it’s not going to hurt your chances.
Jesus Christ, let’s all calm down until we know for sure.
Teddy scrolls through the comments, adding his own to egg them on. It doesn’t take long for one of them to see the obvious.
Guys, what if she was poisoned? Like with the same thing that killed Courtney’s mom?
Boom goes the dynamite.
* * *
THE COFFEE PODS were the flaw in Teddy’s original plan. He’d realized that after a lot of reflection and a hard, honest look at what had happened. It was all about the pods.
The faculty all had their favorite flavors, so on a normal day it was almost guaranteed the right person would drink the right pod. The day of Sonia’s party wasn’t normal, though, which ruined everything. Coffee pods were just too impersonal.
For Your Own Good Page 12