Mr. Erikson walked over to my desk, and even though I tried to lay my arm across the page, it was clear I hadn't been following the discussion. He tapped his pen on my desk. I had the sinking feeling that he wasn't going to stop until I looked up at him. So I did. He held my eyes for a second and then walked back up to the front of the room.

"Okay, cla.s.s, go ahead and pa.s.s up your notes. I'm going to count them toward partic.i.p.ation points this week." Mr. Erikson stared at me while he said it. I flushed at feeling singled out. What had I ever done to him?

I looked down at my mess of doodles in relation to Grace's latest email. Words like "tombs," "graves," and "catacombs" filled the page and The truth is underground was underlined three times. I couldn't exactly submit this to a teacher. Instead I flipped back a few weeks and tore out an old page of notes so I'd at least have something to hand in.

"Mr. E.?" Bradley called from the back of the room. "My water bottle smeared my notes. Can I recopy them tonight and give them to you first thing tomorrow?"

Mr. Erikson shuffled the papers in his hands and chuckled.

"Not a problem, but don't forget or it's a zero."

I guess after earning one too many demerits, I'd lost my touch. I looked back at Bradley, and he shrugged his shoulders and threw me a half smile as if to say he totally knew how I felt. And I suppose he should, since he was taking this cla.s.s for the second time. Mrs. Garrety had failed him the year before.

The bell finally put an end to my miserable day, and I rushed out to the arches, our designated meeting spot to prepare for the evening's investigation. I was the first to arrive and was alone in the gardens as the late afternoon sun sank behind the trees. I sat down on Grace's bench to think about our next logical step. We had planned on going back to the heart of Brown, but now I wasn't so sure. Grace's email seemed to be leading us in a different direction. Belowground. Honestly, I wasn't sure about anything anymore.

A gust of wind blew in from behind me, and I smelled the distinct smell of burning wood. I jumped up from the bench, my senses heightened. The smell of smoke triggered a response in me I couldn't quite explain. Dr. P. claimed it was a sensory a.s.sociation. That the smell of wood burning would always force the trauma of losing Grace back up to the surface, but I preferred to think of it as a fight-or-flight response. Six months earlier I would have been running as far as I could from that smell, but things had changed. And I was sick of running away.

I pushed my way through the brush until I made it into the forest surrounding the gardens. The smell was stronger now, and I could hear the crackling of burning leaves.

And then I saw it.

A small fire had been lit in the clearing up ahead. A circle of stones kept the blaze contained, so theoretically there was nothing to be afraid of. But "theoretically" was not a word my instincts were familiar with. The smell, the woods-this was all too familiar.

Tiny hairs on the back of my neck p.r.i.c.ked up as I felt a pair of eyes fixed on me through the trees. I spun in a circle, but the person watching me was hidden well, tucked in the cover of the trees. And that's when I noticed it. Something was there in front of the fire. A card with my name on it leaning against a rock.

I picked it up, and my fingertips identified the creamy paper immediately. The fire blazed below me, and the sense of deja vu was overwhelming. But this time when I read the card, there was no invitation to meet at the chapel. No beautiful calligraphy. Just a simple warning penned in bloodred ink.

Liar, liar I heard a branch snap behind me, and some soft laughter rang through the leaves. Without thinking, I began to run in the direction of the laughter. If I could find the person behind the threats, the person who had the most to lose, I'd find myself one step closer to the truth.

I followed the sound of pounding feet through the woods, blood rushing through my ears, my throat burning. I would not stop until I got answers. The second I burst back out into the clearing of the gardens, it was obvious that I'd lost the person. The students milling around campus were giggling, flirting, and whispering, not gasping for air. Whoever had been in those woods had either taken another way out or had already blended into the crowd.

I sank down onto Grace's bench, struggling to catch my breath. The sky closed in on me, and my vision blurred, darkness creeping in along the edges. Familiar with the sensations, I shoved my head between my knees, hating every second of the panic attack, because it meant they had won.

"Hey, you okay?"

It was Liam. Thank G.o.d.

In an instant he was next to me on the bench, one arm rubbing my back and the other gripping one of my hands. Slowly my breathing returned to normal, and I cautiously lifted my head out from between my knees only to find my mouth inches from his.

Dizziness threatened to overtake me again, but this time for entirely different reasons. I hovered near the ground, mostly because I liked the way his breath felt on the delicate skin surrounding my lips, and I knew that standing would break the spell.

"You look..."

"Ready for the big mission? We're meeting here at ten, right?" Seth interrupted Liam with a breathy whisper inches away from both of our faces. I felt the urge to yank each and every red hair right out of his head.

"Uh, yeah. I was just catching my breath." I untangled myself from Liam and stood up. "Change of plans, though," I said, still searching the crowd. "We'll meet at the chapel, where it all began, and we'll need shovels. I think we might have to do a little digging. But first we've got a fire to put out."

Chapter 43.

Remind me what we're doing here again." Seth flicked his flashlight beam around like a third-grader at sleep-away camp.

"We're starting at the beginning," I hissed. "This is where it all began." I stepped over ragged police tape that had long since fallen and nearly tripped over a charred wooden beam that had been dragged to the perimeter of the property. "There has to be something there in the bas.e.m.e.nt."

"But isn't that where..." Seth looked anxious.

"Don't even think about it, okay? The Sisterhood and Brotherhood were clearly up to something that night, so there must be some clue here that will help us figure out what really happened." My voice had taken on a slightly hysterical edge, and I felt Liam's hand on my shoulder.

We continued walking until we came to the chapel's remains. Most of the large debris had been cleared away, but the intense smell of burnt wood remained. My foot hit something solid. When I shined my flashlight on the object, I realized it was the bronze plaque that used to mark the chapel as Station 11. It was now charred and warped. I ran my fingers over the blackened Latin phrase Ad vitam aeternam, "to eternal life," and thought of Grace. If only everyone's definition of eternal life was the same. The discrepancy p.i.s.sed me off.

We walked to the edge of the foundation and peered down into what used to be the bas.e.m.e.nt, where Grace's body had been discovered. I was always surprised to see that the lower level looked to have escaped most of the damage, and I had to remind myself that the smoke, not the flames, had killed my best friend.

"Look, there's a set of stairs over there." Liam pointed to the back of the building. "If you really want to do this, I think we can go down."

I nodded and breathed in deeply. Seth let out a little squeak but followed us with his flashlight.

Sure enough, the stairs were still intact. I looked at my two knights in tarnished armor and raised an eyebrow. "Well?"

"Yeah, all right. Let's just get this over with." To my surprise, Seth began the descent first.

It got darker and darker with each step into the bas.e.m.e.nt. Even though much of the bas.e.m.e.nt was exposed to the night sky, the moon didn't offer much light. With each step, my legs shook, barely supporting the weight of my body. I tried to remain calm, but my emotions ran wild.

Here I was, at the place where my best friend had lost her life, dragging the only two friends I had left down with me, and I had no idea what to look for. I felt like giving up, but when my foot hit the solid surface of the bas.e.m.e.nt floor, I felt a new resolve. Grace had died here. Alone. She deserved justice.

We began walking the perimeter of the bas.e.m.e.nt. Our flashlights illuminated stacks of charred wood, but otherwise the bas.e.m.e.nt appeared to be empty. I got down on my hands and knees and crawled, shining my flashlight over every inch of the floor. Nothing. If something had been down here that night, it was gone now.

But my stream of light landed on a new texture tucked close to the far wall. The light shook as I rushed over and found what looked like a trapdoor made of solid wood, flush with the floor of the bas.e.m.e.nt. I tried to pull at the edges with my fingers, but it wouldn't budge.

"Hey, guys, check this out."

Seth and Liam immediately joined me by the small door.

"I thought the underground Grace was referring to was the bas.e.m.e.nt. But maybe there's something underneath this place?"

"No way; it doesn't even move. They probably had to cut into it for a pipe repair or something," Seth replied.

"I don't know," Liam said, his forehead crinkled in thought. "Listen."

He pounded on the floor, and it made an echoing sound. There was definitely a hole underneath the square. It had to be a hatch or a door of some sort.

"There's got to be a way to get it open. Move for a second." Liam struggled with the door, trying to pry it open with one of the shovels, a flashlight, and even a stick (yeah, I wasn't impressed either), but the door wouldn't budge.

Annoyed, I wondered if we should call it a night; the dark bas.e.m.e.nt and narrow streams of light were giving me a headache. Just as I was about to get to my feet, I heard m.u.f.fled voices coming from down below.

"Shhh," I whispered to the boys. "Listen."

All three of us put our ears to the dank floor and held our breath.

"Are you sure we can't take the library route? This freaks me out," a voice from below said.

"Not with Big D. on duty. We'd never make it out of the stacks," was the m.u.f.fled reply.

The footsteps underground seemed to be coming closer to where we lay. Seth and I froze, and Liam had to drag us into the dark recesses of the bas.e.m.e.nt to hide behind a stack of charred wood. The three of us managed to squeeze behind the pile, but it was a tight fit. All at once, the door we had just been kneeling in front of swung open, and two heads emerged. The gaping cracks between the stacked wood left me feeling completely vulnerable. I held my breath, sure they'd spot us instantly.

"Be careful. You know it's not safe anymore." It was Bradley Farrow.

"Whatever. You're just being paranoid." I could see through one of our many peepholes that the second voice belonged to Alistair.

And just like that, pieces to a puzzle much more complicated than I ever imagined began to fall into place. The Brotherhood really did exist. Alistair and Bradley were members, and the secret doorway underneath the chapel must lead...somewhere.

Whatever they had been up to that night, Bradley must have been in on it. Guess it wasn't a coincidence that he'd decided to ask me to go on a walk at the exact same time I was supposed to be meeting with the Sisterhood.

Did he know there was going to be a fire? Is that why they wanted me out of the way? But why had they decided to keep me away? Why not Grace? What was I missing?

There was the muted thud of the trapdoor slamming shut and the sound of footsteps heading up the stairs and out into the night. They were gone.

I exhaled, and someone's warm breath caressed my cheek. I looked up and found Liam's face about an inch from my own. My entire body pressed up against his. In the darkness of the bas.e.m.e.nt, in spite of the fear and confusion and guilt and grief that snaked through me, I wanted to kiss him. Bad. I leaned back a little more and turned my face up to his. His hands gripped my arms, but in a good way, making me feel like he was just as desperate to kiss me as I was to kiss him.

"Ahem." Seth cleared his throat and shuffled awkwardly right next to us.

I flushed and moved away from both of them, walking back over to what I now knew was a trapdoor.

"Well, that was a little close," Liam whispered, catching my eye. For a second, I wondered what he was referring to.

"Yeah, thanks, Captain Obvious," Seth said as he stepped out from behind the pile of wood. Great, now Seth was stealing my lines. Clearly we were spending too much time together.

"So there's definitely a door, but where does it lead?" Liam asked.

"The underground. Maybe that's what Grace was trying to tell us, er...you, Kate. Maybe they live underground or something," Seth answered. And then after a second he added, "Like the mole people."

"I think you've watched one too many reruns of that conspiracy theory show." I rolled my eyes and tried to push my fingers under the edges of the trapdoor to no avail. There must have been a latch on the inside or something. As I knelt beside the trapdoor, I pushed away the thought of Grace doing the same on the night of the fire.

"Come on, it's getting late. We'll figure this out tomorrow." Liam grabbed my hand, and I let him lead me away. It felt nice to be led by an actual living, breathing person for once. Following a ghost hadn't really gotten me all that far lately.

The three of us made our way back out into the cool October night. We might not have found everything we were looking for, but we had caught a quick glimpse of the Brotherhood. And based on what I'd seen, I was beginning to worry that if they had played a role in Grace's death, the truth might be lost forever.

Chapter 44.

I'd like to believe that if secret tunnels really ran beneath the school, they'd be doc.u.mented on the school's original blueprints. Unfortunately all of the books about Pemberly Brown at the library had those particular pages removed, and the rest of the books were out of print. Secret societies were very thorough.

There was only one person I trusted enough to ask. I cornered Dorothy at the library after school. She was in her usual spot by the entrance, keeping an eye on things.

"Hi, there, Kate. Don't usually see you around here during normal hours," she said with a smile.

"Ha. Ha. For your information, I'm actually here to see you."

"Are you, now? What could you possibly want with an ancient security guard?" she asked, amused.

"I'm actually writing a paper on the history of Pemberly Brown, and rumor has it you were a History teacher way back when."

Dorothy's smile disappeared. "I just remembered that I have to check on something over in the main building."

"No worries. I'll walk with you."

We walked out into the October sunshine and followed the brick path back to the main building.

"So...you used to be a History teacher? When did you decide to change jobs?"

"Well, that's complicated."

Okay, this was harder than I'd thought it would be. Considering that my current objective was to get information out of Dorothy, I thought of Seth, the Great Inquisitor himself and considered, "What would Seth do?" The answer was simple. Seth would ask more questions. Better yet, he'd ask the same question in a different way until he got the information he was after. I gave it another shot.

"So you were fired?"

Her eyes darted around the campus, like she was checking to make sure someone wasn't listening to our entire conversation.

"No, definitely not fired. I still work here, don't I?"

"No offense, but isn't security guard sort of a demotion?"

"Well, that all depends on how you look at it," she replied.

Okay, clearly this wasn't going well. I mean, the woman was sealed tighter than the CIA's files. Time to play hardball.

"Huh, well, from my perspective I'm sort of wondering if you were kicked out by some crazy misogynistic secret society called the Brotherhood." I forced a laugh, just in case she had no idea what I was talking about so I could play it off as a joke.

The color almost completely drained from her face. And she did that thing again where she looked all around, making me feel like I was in a James Bond movie or something.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Kate." She said it like a sniper gun was trained on her.

"I understand. Maybe you could at least tell me where I might be able to find blueprints for the school? I tried all of the libraries, but there's nothing. I'm interested in finding out if there might be tunnels-"

"Sorry, no. Can't help you there either," she said, cutting me off.