What Lies Beneath ▸ House of Anubis [1]

chapter twenty-six. house of identity

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            "Sarah definitely recognized Victor," Nina informs the rest of Sibuna the next morning.

            I nod. "It was terrifying. She was so scared of him. I thought she might've torn the photo into a thousand pieces if she'd gotten hold of it."

            "She," Nina glances around and lowers her voice to a whisper, "she said he killed them."

            "Her parents?" Fabian asks.

            "Well, we think that's who she meant, because after that she started singing this lullaby—it all got very weird."

            "It's just too creepy to even think. Victor alive when Sarah was a little girl."

            "Like it's not bad enough he's alive now."

            "Did she know anything about the elixir?"

            "Not really," Nina answers. "Just the same thing about tipping the scales of life. What does that mean? What could—" She pauses and grabs a muffin from the table as Victor starts to head our way. "—be more delicious than this muffin?"

            Victor looks over us with his century-plus-old-eyes. "Shouldn't you be getting to school?"

—

            Amber glances at Clarke as he comes into French class, asking me, "Has Jerome apologized to you yet?"

            I sit down at our desk behind Nina and Fabian. "No. I don't really care if he does or not. Besides, I think I'm a bit more focused on the fact that there's a pretty good possibility that," I add this next part in a whisper, "Victor is, like, a hundred years old."

            "Right. Priorities."

            Fabian says to Nina in front of us, the leatherbound first edition of The Time Machine in his hands, "Okay, so I've read every single line. I've looked for underlying passages, secret codes, a false spine. Nothing."

            "It hasn't got a clasp for a start," Amber remarks. They glance at us. "Wasn't that part of the clue?"

            "Yeah, that as well. It was just the only place where 'yesterday always follows tomorrow.'"

            Heels click on the floor. I look up to see Mara, but not Mara. Gone is the girl with the soft waves and sweet smile, and in her place looks like someone who raided Patricia's closet and makeup. Her makeup is darker than we've ever seen on her, her hair is straightened, she's wearing black lace tights under her skirt, and she's chewing gum and smirking.

            My pen drops from my hand as my mouth drops open. The room is staring at her with wide, confused eyes. What is happening?

            "Didn't you used to be Mara?" Clarke asks.