by Julia Nobel
“All right, have fun. I wish I could be there with you!” Her voice cracked.
Emmy bit her lip. “Merry Christmas, Mom.”
“Merry Christmas, darling.”
Emmy hung up and raced across the parking lot. A priest stood outside the arched door and smiled at her.
“May I see your ticket?”
Emmy handed it to him.
“Ah, ticket number twenty-three,” he murmured. His eyes lingered on Emmy, as if he had seen her before and was trying to figure out when. He smiled, but it seemed more sad than happy. “Here’s a program. Please, let me check your coat.”
Emmy took the brochure and handed him her coat.
“You’d better go in, the concert’s about to begin.”
Emmy slipped inside the door and let it close gently behind her. The room was packed but silent. If she could spy an empty seat, she might be able to snag it before the music started. Then a voice broke the silence. High. Clear. Magnified by some ancient magic that still breathed in the old stone walls. There was an empty seat at the end of a nearby bench, but Emmy didn’t move. Her footsteps might break the spell.
Then one voice broke into two, and then three, and then a chorus of voices weaved in and out of each other like threads being pulled into a tapestry. Emmy closed her eyes and leaned into a pillar.
Lully, lullay, thou little tiny child.
It was a lullaby. And it was the saddest lullaby she’d ever heard.
Bye, bye, lully, lullay. This poor youngling for whom we sing, bye, bye, lully, lullay.
Someone was saying goodbye to their child for the last time.
Emmy’s chest started to ache. If her dad had said goodbye to her, she didn’t remember it. Maybe he’d thought he was coming back. Maybe he didn’t know it would be their last goodbye. Or maybe he didn’t feel like the parent in this song. Maybe he didn’t miss her at all.
A tear dripped down to her chin. It was silly, really. Nobody cried because of a song. The music ended, and she wiped her face clean as she slunk into the nearest bench.
After the concert, Emmy filed out through the doors with everyone else. The priest handed Emmy her coat and gave her another sad smile. It was strange. Everybody else still had their coats.
She looked back, but the priest had disappeared into the crowd.
Emmy climbed back onto the bus with the handful of other students who had come to the concert. She pulled off her jacket and felt something crinkle in her pocket. It was an envelope. She sat down and opened it.
Inside was a handwritten letter, yellow and crinkled in the corners, as if someone had mailed it years ago and she’d forgotten to throw it away. She squinted at the smudged ink and began to read:
Dear Tom,
The rift between us is a growing concern. Meet me in Hollingworth Square Thursday next at 9:00 p.m.
Your Brother Loyola
The bus started moving, and Emmy wrinkled her forehead. This letter wasn’t hers. She must have picked it up by mistake and forgotten about it. She was about to stuff it back in her pocket when she noticed there was another paper inside. This one was crisp and new, and only had one sentence:
From the files of Thomas Allyn.
Thomas Allyn. That was her father’s name. His real name, the one she had seen on the marriage certificate. Emmy chewed on her thumbnail. This couldn’t be possible. Letters don’t just appear in people’s pockets. How was she ending up with so many of her dad’s things? Her mom had always kept everything of his away from her. Everything he owned, every trace of him, it was all gone. Except it wasn’t. Somebody knew. Somebody knew what had happened to him. Somebody had things that belonged to him. And now they were passing them on to her.
Emmy looked at the signature. Your Brother Loyola. But her dad didn’t have a brother. Did he?
Emmy’s heart started beating again. Her mother had always said that her dad had no family. But that didn’t really make sense. How could someone have absolutely no family? Her father hadn’t been very old when he’d disappeared. How could all of his family be gone?
Emmy read the letter again. The rift between us. Her heart beat faster. Could her father have been estranged from his family? Was it possible that members of his family—of her family—were alive and well…and living here in England?
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She needed to think. Someone had slipped this letter into her pocket. That person had been at the church, and they had access to her coat. Her eyes flew open.
The priest.
She stuffed the papers back in the envelope and ran into the aisle.
“Emmy?” Master Barlowe put his hand on her shoulder. “We’re moving, you’ll have to find your seat.”
“I need to get off the bus,” Emmy said.
Barlowe raised his eyebrows. “Why’s that?”
“I need to find somebody, it’s urgent!”
“Who do you need to find? Are we missing someone?”
“No, I, uh,” Emmy didn’t know what to say. “It’s someone I met at the concert, it’s really important.”
“We’re on a bit of a tight schedule, Emmy. I’m afraid there isn’t time.”
The bus turned another corner and Emmy looked back. The two towers of the church faded into the fog and finally disappeared.
CHAPTER 10
Easter Term Begins
Emmy was still thinking about the letter when students started coming back to school a week later. Her holiday had been quiet but peaceful. She spent most evenings curled up by the fire and chatting with Natalie, who was on the soccer team with Lola and hadn’t gone home for the holidays, either. It was nice, but Emmy was looking forward to the school getting busier again. It had been overwhelming when she’d first arrived, but now she was used to people spilling out of classrooms and cramming onto couches in the common room. It made the school feel alive. When Jack and Lola showed up, Emmy found herself jumping off the couch and giving them both hugs.
“How were your holidays?” she asked.
Lola scrunched up her face. “Dad’s got a new girlfriend, a woman named Lacee who’s young enough to be my sister. We asked her to come to a football match, and she said she’d never really understood people who like football.”
Emmy cringed. Not liking football was a fast track to Lola’s bad side. She looked at Jack. “What about you?”
Jack rubbed a piece of lint off his shirt. “Same as usual. I’m just glad to be back where I belong.”
“Me too,” Lola said.
Emmy looked at her friends. Me too.
“So how was your holiday?” Lola asked.
Emmy bit her lip. She hadn’t told anyone about the letter, but she wasn’t getting anywhere with trying to figure things out on her own. Maybe it was time to get a little help.
“Come on, I want to show you something.”
Emmy led Jack and Lola up the stairs and into her room. Jack hesitated in the doorway. Boys weren’t supposed to be on the Audrey side of the building, let alone in the girls’ rooms.
“Don’t be such a baby,” Lola said, “it’s not like anyone cares.”
Jack came in and quickly shut the door behind him.
Emmy pulled the letter out of her backpack and explained how she’d gotten it. Then she threw herself down on the bed and sighed. “I just don’t get it. Why go to all that trouble just to give me an old letter?”
“Well, obviously this person wants you to know that your dad had a brother and that they had some kind of falling-out,” Lola said.
“So why not just tell me? And why send me an old letter instead of explaining it in a new one?”
“Maybe there’s a reason this person wants to stay anonymous,” Jack said. “You’re sure you can’t think of anyone who could be doing this?”
Emmy tugged at her ear. “I can think
of one person…”
“Who?”
“My dad. I think he might be the one doing this. I think he…he might have been that priest. The one at the church.”
The room was silent for a few moments. Emmy didn’t expect anyone to talk. She didn’t know what to say, either.
Suddenly, they heard a girl berating someone outside the door. Victoria was back. Emmy’s eyes widened and Lola swore.
“You’re not supposed to be in here!” Emmy hissed at Jack. Lola tackled him and shoved him under Victoria’s bed just as the door opened.
Emmy smiled at Victoria. That was a mistake.
Victoria eyed them suspiciously. “What are you two up to?”
“Sneaking boys under your bed,” Lola said casually.
The room went dead silent. Emmy had to bite her tongue to stop herself from laughing.
“Fine, don’t tell me,” Victoria said, and she heaved her suitcase on her bed. Jack grunted, and Emmy quickly coughed to cover it up. Victoria’s eyes narrowed, and Emmy held her breath.
“You know,” Victoria said, “if you’re sick, you’ve got to stay in the medical center. I’m not catching pneumonia because I’m stuck with an unhygienic roommate.” She flicked her hair behind her shoulder and left the room. Emmy finally let the air out of her lungs, and Lola started to laugh.
“It’s not funny!” Jack crawled out from under the bed and rubbed the back of his head. “First you throw me under the bed, where apparently no one has vacuumed since the Second World War, and then I’m attacked by that bloody bag!”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Lola said, “I didn’t realize you’d be overwhelmed by a plastic pink carrying case.”
Jack folded his arms across his chest. “What does the color have to do with anything? It’s not like being pink makes it any lighter!” They were still bickering as they left the room.
Emmy picked up the letter and read it again. It was such a weird thing to have. If only she knew why she had it. And if he was the one who had sent it.
• • •
The weather over the next few days was warmer than usual, which made the long walk to Latin Society a lot more cheerful. The wind died down enough to hear birds chirping, and Emmy even saw a few squirrels scampering between the trees. When she opened the cottage’s secret door, Emmy saw fewer people than normal. A lot of people must be skipping society to take advantage of the weather. Brynn was there, and Emmy had already gotten her books out of her bag when she realized he wasn’t alone. Jack’s brother was with him, but it wasn’t Malcolm…it was Vincent.
Emmy frowned. Why would Vincent be at Wellsworth? He had already graduated. He and Brynn had their heads close together, like they were talking about something they didn’t want anyone else to hear, but that didn’t make much sense. If they wanted to have a private conversation, a school society wasn’t the best place to have it. Brynn looked up and saw Emmy watching them. He scowled, nodded his head at Vincent, and the two of them moved to the opposite side of the room. No one was sitting over there.
When she got back to the common room later that afternoon, Emmy sat next to Jack. “Hey, did you know Vincent’s here?”
“Huh?”
“I saw him in Latin Society. He was talking with Brynn, and they definitely didn’t want to be overheard.”
Jack rubbed his forehead. “That can’t be good.”
“Yeah.”
Jack leaned forward and started to whisper, “Vincent was Brynn’s mentor in the Order. Maybe he still is, even though he’s left school.”
“Maybe,” Emmy whispered. “In that case he might just be catching up with Brynn. That doesn’t mean they’re up to something.”
Jack shrugged. He looked pretty skeptical. Before he could say anything else, Lola came into the common room and threw her bag down so hard it burst open and spilled her books all over the floor. She swore and started stuffing things back in the bag.
“What’s up with you?” Emmy asked.
Natalie stomped into the room behind Lola and threw herself down in a chair. “Melina Bakas went hiking over the holidays and—”
“—and broke her bloody ankle,” Lola interrupted.
“Ouch,” Jack said.
“That’s all you have to say!?” Lola exploded. “Our star striker is injured three weeks before the start of tournaments, and all you can say is ‘ouch’?”
Emmy winced. It had been months since she’d played soccer, but she still felt a pang of longing whenever anyone talked about the game. “What are you going to do?” Jack asked.
Natalie sighed. “Dillon and Manuela are both good forwards—one of them will move to striker, I guess. One of our bench players will move up to regular, and we’ll have to find someone else to take their place on the bench. We need fifteen players, so we’ll have a tryout for the open spot.”
Something fluttered in Emmy’s chest. An open spot. And just for a benchwarmer. This team was a lot better than her team back home, but she might be good enough to sit on the bench.
But what about her mom? Emmy tapped her knuckles on the table. No soccer. Her mom had forbidden it.
But she’s not here.
“When are tryouts?” she asked as casually as she could.
“Saturday.”
• • •
It was ten o’clock on Saturday morning, and Emmy was shivering on the sidelines of the football pitch. She hadn’t even been near a soccer ball in months. What if she wasn’t good enough? What if she made a complete moron out of herself in front of the whole school? And what if… What if her mother found out somehow?
Lola ran over to her with a funny look on her face. “You’re trying out?”
Emmy nodded.
“Have you… I mean…you have played football before, right?”
“Of course, I have!” Emmy said a little louder than she meant to.
“Okay, okay,” Lola said, “just be prepared.”
“For what?”
Lola bit her lip. “It’ll be a tough trial.”
Emmy’s shoulders slumped. “You don’t think I should do it.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement of fact.
“I didn’t say that.” Lola put her arm around Emmy’s shoulder. “Close your eyes. Now think of the absolute worst thing that could happen to you today. Tripping over your cleats. Scoring on the wrong net. Trying to do a header and bashing the ball off your nose instead. Just picture all that blood dripping down your face.”
“How is that supposed to help?”
Lola grinned. “Because when you prepare for the absolute worst, nothing can be as bad as what you’ve imagined.” The whistle blew, and Lola took her spot on the pitch.
“Don’t bet on it,” Emmy grumbled.
Each girl had five minutes of playing time to show what they could do. Many of them were good, although not as good as Emmy had expected. Some looked like they had potential, but they weren’t doing enough to showcase their skills. They weren’t being aggressive, and that was the only way to stand out from the crowd.
“Hey, Emmeline!” called a voice from the stands. Emmy looked back and scowled. It was Victoria. “Remember, you’re trying to get the ball in the net, not over top!”
A few people snickered, and Emmy felt her body stiffen.
“Did you bring your cheerleader pom-poms with you?” Victoria asked. “Give me an L! Give me an O! Give me an L-O-S-E-R!”
Emmy kept staring at the pitch. She would not let Victoria get to her. Not today.
There was no way she was leaving this pitch with people thinking she didn’t know how to play soccer. The whistle blew, and the coach turned toward the sidelines.
“Willick!” she called. “You’re up!”
Emmy ran to her position. She could hear Victoria teasing her, but she didn’t care. Victoria didn’t matter anymore. The on
ly thing that mattered was getting the ball in the net.
The whistle blew again, and Emmy took off. A girl was moving the ball up the pitch, but she wasn’t paying enough attention to where Emmy was. Emmy slid her foot in front of the girl’s and pulled the ball backward. It was hers. She spun around and flew in the opposite direction. Lola was gunning straight for her, and Emmy slowed down to watch her footwork. Then she slid the ball between Lola’s legs and met it on the other side. She dodged the next midfielder and picked up her speed. This was where she belonged. Her heart was meant to pound with the rhythm of fast feet. Her lungs were meant to feel like they might burst open with the very next step. No matter where she was in the world, the smell of freshly cut grass meant she was home.
Natalie was waiting in the defensive zone, but after months of watching her play, Emmy knew how to attack. She faked left to force Natalie to her weak side, then circled around on her right. She reached her foot back and kicked the ball as hard as she could. The keeper dove, but it was way too late; the ball was in the back of the net.
Emmy turned around and stopped dead. Every person in the stadium was staring at her. It was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. All of Lola’s worst-case scenarios raced through Emmy’s head. She must have gone for the wrong net or broken some English soccer rules. She should have checked to make sure all the rules were the same.
“Red side, one–nil!” the coach called, and Emmy breathed out. At least she’d hit the right net.
The next few minutes of play were a lot tougher, but Emmy held her own. She had never played with a team this skilled; it was amazing. By the time the coach blew the whistle, Emmy didn’t want to stop.
“Thanks very much, girls,” the coach said. “The team and I will discuss things, and the captain will let you know when a decision has been made.”
Emmy was halfway to the changing room when Lola caught up with her.
“Hey,” Lola said. She had a weird expression on her face, like she was trying to stop from busting at the seams. “What was that?”
Emmy groaned. She knew it. She had done something stupid. “What? What did I do?”
Lola exploded. “What did you do? You got past three of our best players and faked out our keeper, that’s what! Where did you learn to play football like that?”