"What about Taylor?" Liam mumbled groggily.

"I saw her take the stairs out to the clock tower," Maddie replied, gesturing for us to follow her.

"You just let her go?" Liam asked, shaking his head to try to clear it.

"I'll explain later. Let's just get out of here." I grabbed his hand, and we followed Maddie as she expertly navigated the tunnels until we came to another door. "Alumni Hall," she said, nodding at it. Liam climbed the stairs first, looking back when he didn't hear additional footsteps.

"I'll be up in a minute," I said. When he still didn't move, I continued. "It's okay. I just need a second." Slowly, he continued the rest of the way up without us. I turned back to Maddie. As soon as she met my eyes, hers filled with tears again. I clenched my hands into fists and found the courage to say what I needed to say.

"Grace is really gone, isn't she?" I asked, my voice cracking.

Maddie cried then. Huge, silent tears. "Yes." Somehow she looked even smaller than when I'd first met her all those years ago. I didn't know if she'd hug me back, but I wrapped my arms around her anyway. We stood together like that, crying for everything we'd lost, including each other.

"You have to get help, Maddie," I said, referring to more than just her obvious eating disorder. "Promise me you'll get help." She nodded into my shoulder and wiped beneath her eyes as she pulled away. "And we have to go to the police." I looked at her, praying the girl I once knew was still in there somewhere. That she was still able to see what was right.

"I already called them. It's over," Maddie said quietly.

I peered around her, taking in the narrow tunnels one last time, and wiped beneath my own eyes. There were more hurdles ahead, possibly even more challenging than the ones we'd just jumped, and I had to be strong. My invitation to the Sisterhood was crumpled in my hands. I had to finish what I had started.

After we climbed the steep flight of stairs, Liam reached down to grab my hand. His strong grip was comforting, my struggle with Alistair already drifting into the recesses of my memory.

We rushed down Alumni Hall, and I gave the plaque at Station 6 a habitual slap. Respice, adspice, prospice. I had just looked at the past, and we were off to the present. I'd worry about the future tomorrow.

Chapter 55.

The next morning, my parents and I were called to the police station to give an official statement to the officer in charge of Grace's case.

Detective Livingston's office was overloaded with files and loose papers, but I noticed a Pemberly Brown b.u.mper sticker pinned to his bulletin board.

"Please, everyone, have a seat. Can I get anyone something to drink?"

My dad rubbed at his eyes and asked for a cup of coffee.

"No, I'm okay. Is that evidence?" I asked pointing at the b.u.mper sticker.

He smiled.

"No, 'fraid not. I graduated in the cla.s.s of '97." Detective Livingston shuffled some papers on his desk. "So let me review why we've gathered today."

"We were under the impression that Kate was here to give an official statement," my mom said, transitioning seamlessly from mom to lawyer.

I reviewed the events of the previous night in my mind: me cracking the code to get into the headquarters, Alistair threatening all of us, me slicing into his arm by accident, finally handing the invitation I'd received last year to a police officer. Never in a million years did I think I was the kind of girl who would get involved in a sword fight for evidence in a criminal investigation. But I also didn't think I was the kind of girl who would give an official statement to a police officer, either. I guess I didn't really know who I was, exactly.

"Kate." Detective Livingston met my eyes. "You need to know that Alistair Reynolds is pressing charges against you."

I was floored, speechless, literally unable to respond to the news. My palms began to sweat, and a dull ache pulsed at each temple. This was not happening. There had to be a mistake.

"Hold on just a second." My dad sat up straighter and put the coffee cup down on the detective's metal desk with a clink. "What exactly are you accusing my daughter of?"

"I know this might come as a shock to you, Mr. and Mrs. Lowry"-the detective looked at me as he said this-"but Alistair was treated at University Hospital last night for a knife wound. He claims Kate stabbed him."

"What's this all about, Kate?" my dad asked, wrinkles threatening to overtake his entire face.

"Kate, what exactly happened last night?" my mom asked, narrowing her eyes. I could feel their support waver. My mom scooted uncomfortably in her chair, moving a little closer to my dad and farther away from me.

"He attacked me! I was protecting myself," I yelled defensively. "Did Alistair mention that he started the fire that killed my best friend?" I stood up as I said the words, and my dad guided me back down into the seat.

"Kate, let's not say anything we'll regret," Detective Livingston said, referring back to his papers.

"I won't regret anything I say. What about the Brotherhood and the Sisterhood? What about their role in Grace Lee's death? They killed her."

"Kate, I'm going to have to ask you to calm down. Detective Sanchez took down all of your information about these so-called societies last night at the school, and frankly we've been unable to find any evidence of these types of groups at Pemberly Brown."

"Dad," I said, beginning to get desperate. "I showed him where the tunnels lead...I gave him my evidence, the invitation, their crests, everything."

The detective looked at my parents. "Mr. and Mrs. Lowry, we've investigated all of Kate's claims. The clues lead nowhere, and Headmaster Sinclair a.s.sures us that the only thing beneath Pemberly Brown are some old sewers."

"Of course he said that! He's one of them." And then I remembered Alistair's comment about the police. The Brotherhood runs deep. "You're one of them too, aren't you? Is that what this is about? Protecting your stupid secret society?"

"Kate, that's enough." My dad placed his hand on my forearm. "You've said plenty."

"I think we're done here. Without additional proof, it's Kate's word against Alistair's, and frankly after she a.s.saulted him last night, her word doesn't carry much weight."

"But what about Maddie and Taylor?" I didn't bother looking at the detective; I asked the question of my parents. "They'll tell the same story." I was more desperate than ever now. I couldn't believe this was happening, and worse still, I couldn't believe he was right.

I had no evidence. Nothing. The past few weeks had been a huge waste. The only information I had left implicated me and the Sisterhood. The police even had the invitation I'd managed to get back from Alistair, and they'd probably already burned it.

"Honey, Maddie is very sick," my mom began. "I spoke with Mrs. Greene. They're sending her to a facility to get help. She's not a reliable witness."

Detective Livingston gave me a long, hard look and, to my shock, reached out across his desk and grabbed my hand.

"Kate, I know you're missing your friend and that you want her death to be something more than a horrible accident, but that's exactly what it was: an accident."

I pulled my hand away from his and looked back at my parents. They were nodding their heads in agreement. All the blood rushed out of my face. I was back at square one.

"Thank you for understanding, detective. We appreciate how much you've done already. What do we have to do to fix this?" my dad asked.

"The Reynoldses were hesitant to press charges in the first place, so I think with some rea.s.surance they'd be willing to rescind. But I'll need Kate's word that she'll stop spreading all this nonsense about secret societies. It's dangerous."

I sat in silence.

"Kate?" my mom asked. "Did you hear what Detective Livingston said?"

I remained silent, but my mom didn't ask again.

"Detective," my dad said, standing, "please tell the Reynolds family we'll take care of all the medical expenses a.s.sociated with this situation." He reached out to shake the detective's hand, and my mom stood as well.

"So if we don't hear from you, we'll a.s.sume the charges have been dropped?" my mom asked.

"Yes. I'll contact you if anything changes," the detective responded.

We left the police station in silence. I could see the questions forming on my parents' lips, but no sound ever left their mouths. I couldn't believe that after everything, it had come to this.

I'd played the game and solved the puzzle, but somehow I'd still lost.

Chapter 56.

I rode home in a fog of depression. It felt familiar. Comforting. Like slipping back into my favorite pair of perfectly broken-in jeans. I'd get home, return Grace's pearls to my memory box, and shove them to the back of my closet. I had failed her; I didn't deserve her necklace.

But I wasn't the same girl I had been a year ago. I had been through h.e.l.l and back, and if there's one thing I'd learned on the journey, it's that I wasn't going down without a fight. Another one. The fog began to lift.

After suffering through an almost hour-long lecture from my parents about letting go once and for all and having them threaten me with twice-a-week Dr. P. sessions, I was ready to take their advice and move on. Since no one believed me, it was time to take matters into my own hands and find real evidence. Again.

I gave my parents another hour to cool down and then grabbed my book bag, headed downstairs, and put my phone to my ear to begin a faux phone conversation with Seth. I wrapped Grace's pearls around my fingers like a telephone cord. My dad took one look at me and raised an eyebrow.

"Hang on a second. Let me ask." I covered my phone with my palm. "Dad, can I go to the library with Seth?"

He sighed and shook his head. "Tell Seth you'll call him back."

Not the answer I was expecting. I pretended to hang up with Seth and dropped my book bag, slumping into the chair next to my dad.

"Kate, just this morning I was listening to how my daughter was involved in some sort of knife fight, and now you want to go the library with Seth?"

I blinked long and hard.

"I want to trust you. I want you to go to the library and do all the normal things kids your age are doing. But how can I?"

I forced myself to look into his eyes. I wanted to tell him the truth, had tried to tell them the truth, but there was no point. No one would ever believe me.

"I'm ready to move on, Dad. I want to be normal too." The lie tasted bitter on my tongue.

"Then call Seth back," he said, putting his hand on top of my own.

I kissed him on the cheek and connected to my second fake call of the day.

It took some convincing, but I insisted on walking instead of being driven by my dad. I had quite a hike in front of me, but I needed the fresh air. The wind bit at my face and hands, reminding me that even colder weather would arrive like an icy sucker punch in a few weeks. The sky was crystal blue, and the bare branches looked as though they'd been etched into the clouds.

As I made my way across the greenish-brown expanse of lawn in front of Pemberly Brown's main building, I knew without looking that my cheeks were flushed from the cold. I was ready to take a break from the cool air...well, if I could get in.

I pounded down the stairs to the bas.e.m.e.nt of the clock tower. I might have lost all my evidence against the societies, but it didn't matter. I would just have to start all over again. Grace was worth it. I punched in the word M-E-A-S-U-R-E, waiting for the satisfying pop of the secret door. But the only thing that popped were the letters, one by one, marking my failure. I tried again and again and again. Fail, fail, fail.

I walked over to the door that led to the tunnels, but there was nothing but smooth stone. Access to the tunnels had either been removed or had disappeared. It was like the door had never existed in the first place.

I struggled to catch my breath. Could I really have made all of this up? The police had to keep records. Maybe I could somehow convince them to give me back all the evidence I'd turned over to them. The other entrances couldn't be sealed. I knew all of the stations; surely I could figure out a way back into one of them. As I gasped for air, I could almost feel Alistair's body pressing into my chest again. I could see the triumph in his eyes.

My fingers found the brick wall surrounding me, and I used it for support as I lowered my body to the ground. This was yet another opportunity for me to use Dr. Prozac's infamous time-out approach, and I was all over it. I closed my eyes, shutting out memories one by one until the world disappeared and a calmness washed over me. It actually worked. Who knew?

Once my pulse had slowed and my breathing was under control, I began to walk up the stairs from the bas.e.m.e.nt of the tower. I heard heavy footsteps closing in behind me, but I refused to look back until the sunshine had embraced me once again. At the top, when I finally turned back around, no one was there.

I rushed out of the clock tower and around the corner, and this time I did run into someone. But not who I expected.

Ms. D.

"Kate! Are you okay? I heard all about the incident in the tunnels last night." Her face was lined with concern, her lips drawn in a tight line.

"I'm fine. I just..." I don't know where they came from, but the tears of frustration finally began to fall. "I lost, Dorothy. I was so close...I almost had them. But I lost."

Her solid arms wrapped me up in a huge bear hug. "It's okay, darlin'. They don't fight fair-never have, never will. But that doesn't mean we stop trying. I fought long and hard, and I lost too." She gestured at her security badge. "But I'm still fighting. Every day, Kate."

I nodded and dried my tears. She was right. This was far from over. For me, the fight had only just begun.

Chapter 57.

I sat on the swing hanging from our front porch for so long that my thighs ached against the hard wood. When I saw the Jeep pull into my driveway, I tried to smile. Tried to be happy to see him, to be normal.

Lucky for me, Liam made it easy. When he hopped out of the car carrying a bouquet of bright pink Gerbera daisies, my fake smile transformed into a genuine one.

"I thought you might need some cheering up," he said, handing me the flowers. The bruise around his eye was still a brilliant purple. I'd never be able to forget the sight of him lying collapsed in the tunnels after his fight with Alistair.

I inhaled the daisies' fresh smell in an attempt to forget.

"Thank you. They're perfect. They're my favorites. How'd you know?"

"I didn't. They just sort of looked like you. Plus they were the only ones at the grocery store."