Thinking of Evelyn makes me glance around the cafeteria once more, searching for her.
Where
is
she?
T
he first thing I notice when Maddie and I arrive at Mrs. Brewster’s high-ceilinged office with its bank of tall windows is that Evelyn is not there, either. I’d hoped she’d also been summoned here since she was part of our group. I’m starting to really get worried about her.
Mrs. Brewster sits behind her big wooden desk and she is not smiling. My mind shifts from Evelyn and begins to race a mile a minute, practicing different ways to smooth this over.
We couldn’t just leave the boys lost and alone in the woods. What if they had died?
It was for the good of our team. We found something to eat, didn’t we?
We were demonstrating adaptability and resourcefulness. Those are two qualities that our outdoor skills teacher always stresses.
It seems to me that all the arguments I’m about to make are true and valid.
“Sit, please,” Mrs. Brewster requests, nodding toward two low, straight-backed chairs across from her desk.
I sit, my shoulders back, alert and ready to make my points.
Cutting my eyes to Maddie, I notice that her right leg is jiggling anxiously. I’m surprised — and just a little happy — to see this. I figure it means she
doesn’t
want to be sent home. If she wants to stay, she’ll put out the effort required to convince Mrs. Brewster that neither of us did anything wrong.
“Mrs. Brewster, this was really not our fault,” I begin.
“Did I give you permission to speak, Ms. Ballinger?” Mrs. Brewster questions coldly.
“No, ma’am,” I admit.
“Then do not speak,” Mrs. Brewster says.
Yes, ma’am.”
Admittedly, not a great start.
Moments of silence pass. Are we waiting for Evelyn? We must be.
“I’m sure Evelyn will be here any minute,” I say impulsively, forgetting about the whole do-not-speak thing in my panic.
Mrs. Brewster’s eyebrows shoot up and her nostrils flare. Her blue eyes burn into me.
“Sorry, sorry,” I say, realizing my error. “Sorry.”
Another few minutes pass and finally the office door opens. But Devi, not Evelyn, enters. She holds a stack of papers that she places on the desk in front of Mrs. Brewster.
Suddenly a new worry takes hold of me. What if this is
about
Evelyn? Has something awful happened to her?
“Ms. Ballinger, Madeleine,” Mrs. Brewster begins, “Devi has been reviewing the identity bracelets we collected and she informs me that yours doesn’t check out.”
My throat is instantly dry as sandpaper. By the end of the first week I’d assumed we were safe on that score. I’d almost forgotten all about it.
“Really? That’s odd,” Maddie bluffs like a champ. “What’s the problem?”
I’m astounded by her coolness, and I hope my astonishment doesn’t show.
Mrs. Brewster leans forward, her elbows on her desk, her hands locked together. “When we scan your ID bracelet, two numbers come up. One code set traces to Madeleine Ballinger and then a second code comes up with different numbers that belong to a Madeleine Frye. Do you know anyone by that name?”
Maddie shakes her head. She turns to me. “We don’t know anybody named Frye, do we, sis?”
I’d never have guessed she was capable of this kind of calm deceit. If they still gave out Academy Awards for acting, Maddie would win one. And she’s never called me
sis
before, but it sounds totally natural.
“No, I can’t think of anyone with that name.” I’m grateful my voice doesn’t crack and hope my acting is even half as good as hers is.
Maddie turns back to Mrs. Brewster and Devi. Her face is all wide-eyed innocence as she shrugs.
I feel like I might vomit.
Mrs. Brewster’s eyes narrow and seem to somehow grow brighter. They dart between Maddie and me. She’s sizing us up suspiciously, taking our measure, deciding if we’re lying.
I think about swimming — anything to keep my face calm and neutral. I see myself in a pool, looking down through the aqua water to the cool blue-tiled bottom. I am breathing in and breathing out. Breathing in. Breathing out.
“Devi, take Ms. Madeleine Ballinger or Frye, whichever it is, to the isolation quarters, please,” Mrs. Brewster instructs.
Maddie looks at me and, for the first time, panic flashes in her eyes. I hope Mrs. Brewster hasn’t glimpsed it.
Maddie must sense that she’s possibly given herself away, because she ducks her head down. A quick moment later when she lifts it again, she’s cool once more. “Do I really have to go to these other quarters?” she asks. “I’ve never slept away from my sister before and the thought of it really scares me.”
Nice save, Maddie,
I think with deep admiration.
“It’s true,” I say. “Never apart. I won’t sleep at all tonight if she’s not there.”
Mrs. Brewster shakes her head firmly. “I can’t give the two of you the opportunity to coordinate your story.”
“What story!?” Maddie asks with convincing indignation.
“If you’re telling a story,” Devi allows in a more kindly tone.
“We’re not,” I insist. “We don’t know how this happened. It’s not our fault.”
Mrs. Brewster looks at me sharply. “What did you think this was about when you first came in, Ms. Ballinger?” she asks pointedly.
I’m angry at myself for using the sentence
It’s not our fault
a second time. I know it’s what’s reminded her of when I said it earlier.
I hope I can be as cool and quick as Maddie has been, but I know I can’t come up with a lie that fast. So I stick with the facts.
“We met some boys while on the overnight and accepted some sandwiches from them. They’d gotten lost. We helped them find their way back. I know we’re not supposed to have contact with them, but it seemed like the right thing to do at the time.” I’m gambling that by admitting the truth, I’ll come across as honest.
To my total amazement, Mrs. Brewster smiles.
I’ve never seen her do this. Honestly, it doesn’t look natural on her. It’s actually a little scary.
“Life throws unexpected things at us,” the headmistress says. “Adaptability and ingenuity are key.”
“Yes,” I agree cautiously. “Emmanuelle always tells us that.”
“I taught it to her.” Mrs. Brewster then resumes her former stern expression. “You ladies will have to adjust to being apart tonight. That is all. Dismissed.”
Now Maddie is unable to conceal the alarm on her face as Devi takes her arm and hurries her out of the room. Mrs. Brewster waits for me at the door and, once I am in the hall, takes her keys and locks it. “Straight to your room, Ms. Ballinger. It’s almost seven thirty.” With
that, she heads away from me, moving down the hall at a brisk clip.
I’m left standing there alone, hardly believing what’s happened. I let everything rewind in my head, reviewing what was said, trying to make sense of it.
The guy Mom and Dad hired to alter Maddie’s bracelet hadn’t done the job correctly. A shadow of her old code was still there.
If CMS uncovered the truth, then I would be in trouble, too. I’ve been claiming Maddie as my twin sister all this time.
Maddie would be sent home and so would I.
N
ot knowing what else to do, I hurry back toward my room. What a disaster this day has been!
First Rosie and … everything.
Then Evelyn goes missing.
Now Maddie is being held like a prisoner in some isolation quarters. I discover that being torn from my best friend — who really has become more like a sister, right down to how annoying she can be sometimes — is the most devastating loss of all.
I enter our dorm, desperately needing someone to talk to. “Is Evelyn here?” I ask Rosie, whom I find sitting at the table, reading by lamplight.
“How would I know?” Rosie answers in a flat voice, not even glancing up from her book.
I head straight for my room and find my locket in my top drawer. Clicking it open, I gaze down at the photos of my parents. “Mom, Dad? What should I do?” I whisper. “We’re in big trouble and I wish I could talk to you about it.” Closing it, I put the locket around my neck and hold it against my heart. Just for tonight, I need to wear it.
“Talking to yourself again?” Rosie snipes when I return to the living room.
Her cold tone is just the last straw. I’m unable to stand her icy disregard anymore. It’s more than I can take. Feeling overwhelmed, I collapse to my knees in tears.
Rosie looks up from her homework in alarm and is immediately at my side. “Louisa, what is it? What’s happened?”
“It’s Maddie … She … We …” My voice trails off. I have a dilemma now. How much should I tell Rosie? Why should I trust her? Is it even safe to confide in her?
I felt so close to her this last week, but she’s betrayed our new friendship. Or has she? Is this just a disagreement that will blow over? Is it really the huge rift it seems to be right now?
Deciding I can’t take the chance, I choose not to divulge the whole story. “There’s something wrong with her bracelet,” I say, opting for a half-truth. “They don’t believe us that it’s a mistake and Mrs. Brewster put Maddie in some isolation quarters somewhere.”
“What kind of something wrong?” Rosie asks.
“Her bracelet says she’s someone else.”
“Because she
is
someone else,” Rosie states evenly.
Looking up sharply, my jaw drops in shock at her words. I search her face. Is she testing me, or does she know this for sure? “Why do you say that?” I ask.
“She’s not a thing like you. And you most certainly are not twins, fraternal or otherwise.”
“Fraternal twins are more like sisters than twins,” I argue.
“You don’t have the body language of sisters, especially not sisters so close in age,” Rosie insists calmly.
“Sisters melt into each other; they sit back to back, shoulder to shoulder. They borrow each other’s clothing without asking. You and Maddie are super close — anyone can see that — but not sisters.”
Should I insist that she’s wrong? Somehow I just don’t want to lie to her anymore. And, anyway, she’s already figured it out. “You’re right,” I admit. “It was a trick to get Maddie into the school. We weren’t hurting anyone.”
I am surprised — and relieved — when Rosie wraps me in a hug. Our feud is instantly forgotten.
“Now we have to figure out what to do,” Rosie says as she releases me from her embrace.
“We could just do nothing,” I suggest. “This could just blow over. Mrs. Brewster might forget about it.”
“No,” Rosie disagrees, shaking her head. “I don’t think Mrs. Brewster is a
forget about it
kind of person.”
Sighing, I know she’s right. We sit in silence, each trying to come up with a plan and failing.
The scratch of a key turning in the door makes us both jump. But to my relief, Evelyn walks in, waving a flashlight around the dimly lit room.
“Where have you been?!” I cry, getting to my feet.
“Making lights-out checks,” she replies, as if I should have known this.
“All this time?” I question.
A sheepish, secretive expression crosses her face.
“You weren’t here before dinner,” I add. “And you didn’t wake me up like you promised.”
Evelyn snaps her fingers. “Sorry about that. I knew there was something I forgot. I just got involved in … what I was doing.”
“Which was?” Rosie prompts.
Evelyn steps in closer to us and lowers her voice. “Investigating.”
“Investigating what?” The note of irritation that always creeps into Rosie’s voice when Evelyn’s on the conspiracy warpath is loud and clear.
Evelyn dangles a set of keys. “I scored these from the patrol office. There’s no door I can’t get into. But I have to return them before anyone notices they’re gone.”
Rosie’s jaw drops. “You’re crazy! You have to put those back right now!” she says, her voice suddenly dropping to
a frantic whisper. “Do you know what kind of trouble you’ll get into if you’re caught?”
“I won’t,” Evelyn promises. “First tell me why you two look so upset. What’s happened?”
We fill her in on the whole story. “We don’t know what to do about it,” I moan.
“And your ‘investigating’ isn’t going to help!” Rosie adds angrily. “We’re already in trouble!”
“Why don’t we go have a look around,” Evelyn suggests, once more holding up her keys.
“Right now?” I ask.
“It’s now or never,” Evelyn replies. “Who knows when I’ll be able to get my hands on these again?”
Evelyn hands out certain keys to Rosie and me so that we, too, can sneak into the main building. We look at each other, dubious about this plan. But Evelyn says she knows where they’re probably holding Maddie — she’s seen a room marked
DISCIPLINE
in the basement of the main hall.
“What were you doing in the basement of the main hall?” Rosie asks, shocked.
“Investigating, obviously!” Evelyn says indignantly.
Rosie huffs. “What could you possibly be investigating?”
“I want to know what the real deal is on this crazy school,” Evelyn insists. “You two can think CMS is a slice of heaven, but something
weird
is going on here.”
“Like what, exactly?” Rosie counters. “You’ve been saying it’s weird here for weeks, but everything seems just fine to the rest of us!”
“Like what school wants you to survive in the forest with no food packed? Who
does
that?” Evelyn argues. “Tell me that’s not more than a little weird.”
“It’s a life skill,” Rosie insists.
“It’s not a skill I would need if they didn’t make us go out into the woods overnight!” Evelyn replies.
“Let’s go find Maddie, already!” I cry, fed up with their squabbling.
“I can’t come with you. I have to finish my rounds,” Evelyn says. “You guys better go right now, though, because these keys need to be back by the end of my shift.”
“Okay,” I agree.
“Let’s go,” Rosie says.
With a satisfying click, the dead-bolt lock on the back door of the main building opens. The door creaks ever so slightly when I push it open, but to me the sound might as well be thunder. My skin crawls with gooseflesh and my heart pounds.
“This is insane,” Rosie whispers as she follows me into the dark hallway.
I nod in agreement, but it doesn’t stop me from moving farther into the hall. Each of us still has a small flashlight from our camping trip. We switch them on and create a circle of soft light around us.
The building is mostly silent with the kind of big, overwhelming quiet that can be unnerving. Every once in a while, though, a pipe bangs as the water heater turns on, or the building makes a creaky settling noise. When that happens, Rosie and I jump. It’s hard to not freak out at every little thing.
“How do we get to the basement?” Rosie asks in a whisper.
I have no idea. We don’t have very specific instructions. Back in the dorm room I was distracted by my own panic and Evelyn and Rosie’s fighting. It made me forget to ask Evelyn to draw us a map.
“Maybe we should split up and look for it separately,” I suggest. “We can meet again by the back door in, say, about a half hour.”
“Okay,” Rosie agrees. “I’ll go to the end of this hallway and see if I can find a stairway down.”
As Rosie becomes a receding spot of light in the darkness, I scan my flashlight around. A turn in the hall is revealed in the illumination and I follow it around a corner.
At once, I freeze. I hear something — noises. Voices!
Barely daring to breathe, I follow the sounds. They bring me two doors down. I put my ear to the door.
Something’s not right. There seem to be more people speaking than could fit into one of these classroom-sized rooms.
Flashing lights are coming from under the door. Where have I seen that kind of light before? It’s very familiar.
And all of a sudden I know what it is.
A television!
How can this be? I thought television and radio waves didn’t reach us here at CMS.
Wait until I tell Evelyn this!
Mrs. Brewster is in there. I recognize her voice. She’s speaking to other people. I hear Devi and also Emmanuelle. And some of the other teachers. I wonder if it’s a meeting of all our teachers.
I know I should get out of there, but my curiosity wins out over my better judgment. Getting to the floor, I lie flat so I can hear the voices more clearly through the door’s bottom opening.
“Quiet, everyone,” Mrs. Brewster is saying. “The president is about to speak.”
The room grows silent, except for the sound of the television. I’m aware of my own heartbeat as I wait with the others to hear what he will say. Something tells me
some important event has occurred in the outside world — something really significant.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the president begins. “It is my sad duty to inform you that at ten o’clock this morning, Canada surrendered to the Alliance.”
Completely shocked, I clap my hand over the stunned gasp that almost escaped my lips. Canada has been a United States ally throughout the War. No one ever seriously thought the Alliance could infiltrate Canada, let alone take it over. This is terrible news. Terrible.
But what the president reveals next is even more shocking to me.
“US Intelligence agencies have informed me that they have reports of sleeper cells and training schools planted in the US. These are Alliance outposts that will surely be called to action now that Canada has fallen.”
Why am I suddenly sick to the pit of my stomach?
What I hear next makes me sicker still.
The teachers are applauding. Some even cheer.
At first, I’m completely confused by this. Shouldn’t they be upset? We’re right on the Canadian border, after all. We could be in danger.
Then I get it.
“This is a great day! Historic!” Mrs. Brewster exults. “It’s happened so much sooner than we expected. We must act quickly now. Starting tonight we will begin the first phase of our plan. If US Intelligence is indeed aware of us, we can’t spare a moment.”
I can barely breathe. I am nauseated. Dizzy.
CMS is an Alliance training school! A sleeper cell!
Tears rise in my eyes. Evelyn has been right all along.
“I thought this day would never come!” Devi exclaims happily.
“We begin tonight!” Mrs. Brewster cries. Her voice is vibrant with triumphant joy. “We’ll contact the richest and most powerful people in America and tell them that the Alliance has their spoiled brat children. If they
don’t do as we say, they’ll never see them again. What won’t parents do to protect their children? They will do anything! And they will do it for us now that we have their pampered kids. It’s such a brilliant plan. Long live the Alliance!”