Stuart’s eyes drifted down to the bare skin just above her barely-there skirt. His mouth gaped like a panting dog. Inside, Belle was disgusted. She had no interest in this boy. She only had eyes for Finn, although she was beginning to find Josh kind of cute too. But Stuart was like a rotten egg: a pristine exterior, but all slimy and gross on the inside. She needed to hurry and get the job done, before she gagged on her own thoughts.
“Come on, Stu,” Belle teased as she took a step back and placed her hands provocatively on her hips. “I know you like me. Remember the locker room?”
A bead of sweat formed on Stuart’s brow and began to drip down the side of his face. Belle stretched up on her toes, pulled him down by the shoulders and, with her tongue, lapped up the drop. She heard him gasp as the salty bead coated her tongue. She wanted to vomit. But instantly his lips were on hers, his tongue forcing entry. It felt like an oversized slug sloshing around behind her teeth. Belle forced herself to withstand it. To pretend to enjoy it. Stuart’s hands were all over her: under her skirt, cupping her chest, raising her leg up to his hip.
Then she came back to reality. She let her hands roam his body as freely as his roamed hers. The back pockets. Up his back. Over his chest and blazer pocket. Nothing yet. Further down they wandered to his front trouser pockets. Her hand slid over a firm rigid object. There it is. Dangerously close to his . . . Belle squirmed at the thought, but she knew she had to do it. This is for Lily; this is for Finn, she thought as she slid her hand into his pocket. She felt the cold metal at her fingertips when his hand shot down to her wrist.
“What are you doing?” Stuart demanded.
Quickly, she shot her other hand to the bulge in his crotch and pressed him against the locked door.
“Don’t you like this?” she teased.
With a deep groan, Stuart’s hand released her wrist and he leaned back into the wall. His eyes closed as he let her touch him and she took the moment to slide the key into her bra unseen. Now she needed to get out of there.
Maybe she could just leave. If she was fast enough she could be around the corner before he even knew she was gone. No. That wouldn’t work. She had to come up with something.
“Did you hear that?” She perked her head up, staring down the hallway.
“I didn’t hear anything,” Stu said, pulling her back to him.
But when she yanked her hand back, Stuart had grabbed her again. The lust in his eyes was a powerful monster that had taken over him. He held her there by the wrist and she only began to struggle when he unbuckled his belt.
“What’s the matter?” he jeered. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”
“What? No!” Belle twisted and writhed in his grip, but Stuart was nearly twice her size. This was what she was afraid of. If she were here alone, she’d never get away. She shot a sharp glance up to the ceiling. She knew they were watching. And she needed help.
***
“Now!” Finn cried.
Shag and Toot jumped right through a ceiling panel, spraying chunks of cork over the floor below, and shot down into the hallway. From the peephole Finn could only see them for a second, then they were gone.
“Hey, over here!” Toot hollered.
Stuart pushed Belle aside and barreled after them. Belle crashed into the wall and stood there, quivering with fear. When she signaled that the coast was clear, Finn and the others spilled out of the ceiling.
“Follow them and keep Stuart busy,” he instructed. “Josh, stay with me.” The other boys shot down the hall out of sight.
“Belle. Are you alright?”
Belle’s heart sank. It wasn’t Finn who asked about her. It was Josh.
“Did you get it?” Finn demanded. Belle nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” Finn added, though he felt mildly uncomfortable saying it. He didn’t want her to get hurt. But he needed to help Lily. He would praise Belle for doing a fantastic job later.
After she slipped him the key, Finn hastily unlocked the door. Inside, Lily was lying on her side on the floor, against the corner.
“Finn?” she whimpered.
When she raised her head, her hair swept away, revealing a puffy magenta patch, just below her eye. Rage billowed inside Finn. He ran to her, helped her to her feet, and studied her bruises.
“Did Trappe do this to you?”
She nodded. “When he heard you calling my name last night, he—”
“I’m sorry Lily. We can’t talk about it now. I have to get you out of here before they catch us. Josh, take Lily and Belle and go out through the west staircase. Trappe will be here any minute, so be careful. Then go chill the rest of the day. You need it.”
“Yeah, sure,” Josh replied. He led the girls around a corner leading to the far side of the basement. Before he vanished he turned back to Finn, who had closed the door and was locking it.
“Finn. My sister, is she—”
“She’ll be fine,” Finn interrupted. “Trappe’s on his way here. Don’t worry.”
Josh gave a quick nod and disappeared into the wall. Finn tossed the key up into the air, watching it flip over itself before landing back in his palm. He continued this action while taking a leisurely stroll down the hallway, whistling a happy tune that one might do on a sunny day while pruning roses in the garden. He stopped when he reached an air duct. With a flick of the wrist he slid the key into the vent as if it were a coin slot on an arcade game, and then continued his jolly jaunt.
He turned at the next intersecting hallway. He could hear the jeers and rants of the boys taunting Stuart somewhere in the basement.
Now it was Finn’s mission to find Trappe. He’d already arranged that prank call earlier to get him out of his office. Now he had to keep him out for as long as he could so Daphne could finish her job. When he rounded another corner by the staircase he was relieved to find his mission incredibly easier. Trappe was standing at the top of the stairs, sneering as Finn bowed dramatically and peered up with his trademark mischievous grin. This was going to be fun.
Chapter Twenty
The Truth
Daylight streamed in through the open windows where the breeze struggled to toss the heavy drapes. The heat of summer had been diluted with the earliest of autumn chills, yet Daphne felt beads of sweat cling to her forehead as she eased through the room cautiously. When Finn first brought up her critical task, she’d imagined doing this in the middle of the night, under the cloak of darkness. Now she felt vulnerable, like anyone could peek through the window, regardless that she was on the second floor, and see her.
Her eyes roamed the walls, scanning over bookcases that held a vast collection of nineteenth century first editions, a pair of framed portraits that looked like they were from the civil war era, a model ship sailing across the top of an antique General Electric console stereo. She brushed her fingers over the massive desk that looked like it could be the size of a small bedroom, leaving a dark trail through the dust. There were no framed family photos on the desk like there were on her father’s. Just a Tiffany lamp, a three-tiered metallic bin with neatly stacked papers, a glass paperweight with some creepy bug in the middle, and the usual gadgets you’d find on an office desk. Atop the short leg of the L-shaped desk there was the computer monitor, silver and sleek. Next to it, under the mouse pad, laid a newspaper with some files to the side, like they’d be shoved away in a hurry.
Daphne sat down and immediately tensed when the rolling leather chair squeaked at her. Though the sound was minimal, it sounded thunderous in her ears, like a stack of heavy books smacking the floor. Nobody is here, she thought. Nobody can hear me. She switched on the computer and stared at the pinhole camera above the monitor that seemed to be watching her intently, like it was recording her every move so that it can tattle on her later like a bratty little brother. She knew she was being neurotic, but she placed a small post-it note over it anyway. It was a small, silly gesture, but it helped to relax her.
Pulling her own USB flash drive with
the hacking software from her pocket and the one that Finn gave her, Daphne got to work. It only took about five minutes to break into the account, which seemed like hours to a 17-year-old girl freaking out about the idea of getting caught. In the system she found all sorts of information. She started with the documents folder, not bothering to open any. Next she copied the pictures folder. After what Finn told her, and the creepy vibe she got from the headmaster, she wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if he had some kind of child porn in there. She wasn’t about to check for it. Next she went for the emails. She hadn’t intended to read any—she didn’t have time—but couldn’t help skimming over one that was open in the window.
Mr. Trappe,
I am getting concerned over the welfare of my son, Sean. Though I receive weekly emails from him, I have not spoken to him in over a year. Every time I call to speak to him, he is unavailable and he never returns my calls. As you know, my husband and I are unable to visit the academy due to career obligations. Yet, last year when we sent an airline ticket for Sean to visit us over Christmas we simply got an email from him saying he had to study for finals. We are very worried and beginning to think that he is no longer at the academy at all. Please, have him call us immediately upon receipt of this email. If we do not hear from him within one week, we will be forced to alert the authorities. Thank you very much for your cooperation.
Sincerely,
Helen Volkman
Daphne was intrigued. Was Sean one of the outcasts? Or just some student who hated his parents for leaving him here? She brushed it off and continued her search, aiming for hidden files and folders. But while she was copying more files she couldn’t help but snoop through the emails some more. She checked the sent messages, but found nothing of interest. Under the deleted items there was one email similar to the one she read, but still nothing that could put Trappe under too much suspicion.
Daphne clicked the accounts tab. She found a list of names, most of which she didn’t recognize. One of them was ‘Sean Volkman.’ She clicked his name. A page full of emails appeared. They all appeared to be emails sent from Sean to his parents. But why was it in Trappe’s mailbox? Scrolling down, Daphne found two names she did recognize: Kevin Willard and Preston Price.
They were the outcasts. All of them. Did they know about this? They all told Daphne that their parents had abandoned them. But what if that wasn’t true? What if Trappe had been intercepting communications between them? She wondered which boy was Sean.
Daphne spied a printer on the other side of the room. She didn’t have time to print all of the emails out, but she wanted the boys to know that their parents hadn’t forgotten about them. She printed the most recent email from Sean’s mother and watched the lengthening striped line move across the window on the monitor as the last file finished copying.
As she pulled the flash drives from the computer, her elbow pushed the mouse pad off the desk. She knew she’d better put it back, as Trappe might become suspicious if anything were out of place. When she returned it, her eyes caught a glimpse of a familiar face on the newspaper. Pushing the mouse pad to the side, she stared in shock at the picture on the front page of the Athens Herald. It was her mother and father, embracing each other as they peered out at her. Mrs. Werring looked about ten years older, with extra creases folding her reddened tear-stained face. Her father looked empty and hopeless, like a child whose favorite toy was taken away. The headline read, SEARCH TURNS UP NO CLUES AS TO DISAPPEARANCE OF LOCAL TEENAGER.
Daphne’s worries at getting caught diminished as she read the article below the picture.
“We just want our daughter back,” Mrs. Werring stated in a press conference. Her husband continued, “Daphne is an intelligent young lady with a bright future ahead of her. We want her to know that we love her and believe in her. And we miss her very dearly.”
Daphne’s eye’s welled up. For the first time since she’d been at Neverland Academy she truly missed her parents. What had she done? The punishment she’d had to endure before coming here seemed like a mere slap on the wrist now. Looking back on that night, she could see she that she’d overreacted. She couldn’t put her parents through this. She had to go home.
As she picked up the newspaper to take it with her, Daphne froze at what was beneath it: a simple manila file folder with the name Preston Price printed in big block letters. She knew she shouldn’t look, that it would be an invasion of Finn’s privacy, but curiosity got the best of her. If she was really going to be with Finn, she needed to know him. And she wasn’t sure she really did. After a quick glimpse inside the file Daphne’s heart broke and anger rose to the surface. She didn’t know Finn at all.
Angry footsteps marched down the hall and stopped at the door. Daphne’s heart leaped into her throat as the handle rattled. She locked the door, but Trappe would have a key. Would that few extra seconds be enough to get out in time? She stuffed the flash drives in her pocket, folded the newspaper and file under her arm, grabbed the printed email and slipped back into the wall, replacing the panel just as the door opened.
***
Finn congratulated himself on a fantastic chase through the church and grounds of Neverland Academy. His speed and agility could have made him a wide receiver on the school’s football team. Trappe knew he couldn’t catch Finn on his own so he put the entire academy on alert and lockdown. Finn was eager for the challenge. He’d had every professor and staff member after him. After parading through the halls of the west wing classrooms, ducking out of reach of the oncoming professors and relishing the cheers from students delighted by the interruption in classes, he scurried through the open window of Professor Davey’s science classroom, knocking over a vivarium and setting free Opie, the class lizard.
Outside, he taunted Trappe, who was watching from the terrace, with a silly dance from the gardens before pointing at Trappe and making an ominous slashing motion across his neck. It took several minutes for the other professors to meet him outside, but by the time they’d reached him he was gone, nobody close enough to discover his secret tunnel entrance.
Now his heart was racing. Adrenaline exploded into a haze of mind-numbing euphoria. This was Finn’s drug of choice.
The jaunty laughter down at the other end of the tunnel signaled to Finn that his friends were back. From the sound of it they’d had just as much fun as he had. Before heading into the cellar, he peeked his head into Daphne’s little cove.
“Daffy?”
It was empty. He turned to continue on to the cellar when he was met with the girl he sought.
“There you are! That was so epic! Oh, Daffy, I wish you could have been there. That was, beyond a doubt, the best trick we’ve ever pulled.”
Daphne wouldn’t look at him. She simply stared at some papers in her hands.
“Did you get the files? How’d it go?”
Finally, she looked up, meeting him with an icy glare that even he couldn’t deny struck his heart and melted his euphoria.
“What happened?”
“We need to talk,” Daphne growled as she pushed past him into the tiny room and turned on the lamp.
“What’s the matter, Daffy?”
“Why are you really here, Finn?”
“I told you, my parents kicked me out. I had nowhere else to go.”
“That’s not what this says. Preston.” She tossed his file to the floor, where sheets of paper spilled out with a photograph of an eight-year-old Finn, his onyx hair trimmed much shorter but the same glowing emerald eyes.
“Don’t call me that,” Finn grumbled.
“Why not? It’s your name.”
Finn hunched over to gather the papers. “Where did you get this?”
“Trappe’s office. Why did you lie to me?”
“I didn’t lie.”
“You told me your parents kicked you out.”
“They did.”
“Finn, you never went home. You just stuck around here like a lost puppy looking for scraps from sympathizers
.”
“I did go home!” Finn shouted. It shocked Daphne so much she jumped back into the wall, banging the back of her head on the cold bricks. “I flew home to Connecticut, Trappe put me on the plane himself,” Finn explained. “My parents didn’t even show up at the airport. I stood there for hours, waiting. Eventually I had to take a taxi home. When I got there I saw them out in the front yard, playing with a little boy. He was only about four years old. He looked almost exactly like me. All those years my parents said they’d put me in the academy because they didn’t have time to raise me, not even during the summer breaks. They didn’t even come to visit. They’d said they had to travel for work, that I’d be better taken care of here. And yet, there they were, spending quality time with their new child. Time that they couldn’t find for me. I told the cabbie to take me back to the airport. I had enough in my meager account to fly first class back to Atlanta. So I did. And I came back here. Trappe had pleaded with my parents to come get me. They wouldn’t. They just don’t care anymore.” Finn glared at Daphne. “There. Now you know the truth. Happy now?”
Daphne returned his glare, refusing to give any sympathy to his heartbreaking story. “What about the other boys? I know what you did, Finn. Their parents have been asking about them, trying to get in touch with them. You can’t keep them here forever.”
Finn collapsed to the floor, his head in his hands, a flood of repressed emotions taking over.
“I did it for them.”
“How can you say that? Finn, you’ve been sending emails, impersonating them all this time? And they don’t even know that their parents are concerned!”
“You can’t tell them.”
“Finn, they need to go home.”
“I don’t want to be alone,” Finn whimpered.
“Come with me. You’re nearly eighteen; you don’t have to go home. We’ll find a place for you. Maybe my parents could loan you some money for an apartment while you look for work—”
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