ANATOMY OF A GIRL

part seventeen

CT/TW: suicide attempt. if you feel it may be upsetting/uncomfortable/triggering, skip scene three.

*

Clio Solaris set a meeting with the chief of police as soon as they'd dealt with the chaos resulting from Hana Rose's untimely death.

Each time she thought of Arlo Torres and now Hana, she felt sick to her stomach.
As the principle, it was entirely her duty to protect these kids, from others and from themselves, but everything seemed so far out of her control.

As Rhett Viktor took a seat opposite her, she pondered the likelihood of such events happening in such a short space of time. That, together with the attack of Leo Carter, confirmed her worst suspicions. As terrible as it was, she'd hoped Arlo Torres's death had been a suicide or an accident. Anything to avoid thought of the alternative — what it meant if he'd been murdered. But Hana Rose's death was undoubtedly murder, and it meant that a nightmare was now upon them.

"I can't help but notice the similarities. Don't tell me you don't see it?" she asked, thinking of every letter supposedly left by the victim, and the strange lack of evidence and suspects. It was no coincidence, and she would not pretend anymore. This resembled the murders of the nineteenth century far too closely.

"I do," he confirmed, troubled. It seemed these deaths had taken just as much as a toll on him, as she noted the dark bags under his eyes, his unkempt hair and the dark stubble on his face. "As much as I wish it wasn't, it seems he has returned inexplicably, after two centuries of peace."

Clio shook her head. "I just can't understand why he would go against the treaty like this — risking his secret getting out." The very secret that had been used to stop the murders two hundred years ago, that had been passed to Belreistkov's incoming principle each generation.

"I also can't guess at his reasoning, but if the past is any indication, he will not be reasoned with. It took his father last time, and now—" He let out a ragged breath. "I'm sorry to say this," he said. "But I'm just not sure what we can do, beside strictly enforcing curfews and reinforcing the barrier spell."

She seemed distressed. "I can't just leave them like sheep for the slaughter, Rhett."

But the only alternative was telling others about Caius Bane's weakness, which could sway the weights of fate in either direction, and she wasn't willing to risk what little leverage she held over the man.

*

Flair doubted the day would ever be upon her, but here it was — her parents were phoning her, after weeks of radio silence. Answering the call felt like running on wet tiles, finding immediate regret curl in her stomach as her feet slipped out from beneath her.

"Hi, Flair, love," her mother began. "Your dad and I just wanted to check in. Are you back on the athletics team?" Barely ten seconds in, and they'd asked the question she'd most dreaded. Not "are you okay, Flair" or "Have you been feeling better?" — no such niceties — but she hadn't really expected any different.

"Yes, mom," she said simply. There was really no need to explain that she was only training, opting out of races. She loved running and how it freed her from the weight of her shoulders, if only temporarily. She no longer loved the crowds and the starting gun's bang. Her mother wouldn't understand such a sentiment.

"That's great, Flair. And school? How have you been doing?"

Flair hesitated for a moment. "Fine," she lied. Though they'd improved slightly in the last few weeks, she was nowhere near where she used to be. But that was okay. She couldn't cling to the person she was before Arlo's death — she died with him.