The Lies That Bind Read online

  I chose to let a fake vomiting noise serve as my response. I was pretty sure my dad mumbled something about respect and figuring out how to breed a culture of fear in our home, but I couldn’t be entirely sure, because I’d already slammed the door to my room. Daddy-daughter conversation could wait. The slip of paper burning a hole in my palm, however, could not.

  I sat down at my computer and immediately pulled up Amicus. Pemberly Brown would be buzzing about whatever had happened tonight at Obsideo.

  I scrolled through some new messages—one from Maddie asking if I had plans for tomorrow, one from my super-annoying lab partner, Ben, and a couple from Seth hypothesizing that perhaps I was allergic to MSG. Apparently, his dad was and always had to run to the bathroom after eating Chinese food. Pretty much TMI defined.

  But the last message made my breath catch, my pulse quicken a beat after.

  Taylor’s name was foreign on my message page. It looked out of place beside Seth’s and outright foreboding next to the subject line, which read, “We Need to Talk.” I couldn’t click fast enough. But when I did and the message expanded, the body of the message was entirely blank except for Taylor’s signature—her name typed in pink cursive. A familiar feeling took root at the base of my stomach, wrapping tightly around my insides like ivy. Fear.

  Something was wrong, really wrong, if she was sending me emails. I thought of the fortune I’d gotten at the restaurant and couldn’t suppress the tiny shiver of déjà vu that tickled the back of my neck. I closed her message and clicked on the All-School tab. The page was littered with mini-conversations about Obsideo, and they all revolved around one event: the scream.

  I heard a first-year was raped.

  I saw someone wearing a mask.

  Has anyone talked to Alyssa Jacobs?

  Someone told me it was a fourth-year prank.

  I heard a gunshot as everyone ran away.

  Who’s talked to Alistair?

  A bunch of us are missing money! Check your purses.

  Bethany, message me if you see this.

  Most of the messages were the usual combination of nonsense and drama found on Amicus, but the last message stuck out like a scholarship student at the “cool” table. Taylor never posted on All-School. In fact, she almost never posted anything on Amicus at all. As PB’s reigning queen bee, she tended to keep her distance from the commoners. While everyone else posted details of what they ate for lunch or random pix of their friends, Taylor had offered nothing except for her plea to Bethany.

  I clicked on the link to Bethany’s page, and again my head began buzzing. Apparently all of Bethany’s friends were looking for her.

  B, where are you? Return my texts, you biatch.

  If you’re hooking up with you-know-who, I’m gonna kick your ass.

  Bethany, CALL ME.

  Um…is this a joke? Where are you? We’ve been waiting an hour.

  I hope you got a ride home. Almost missed curfew and had to leave. Where were you?

  Bethany, hellooooo? You there?

  The messages spanned pages, and I felt the fear creep higher up the back of my throat. The scream from Obsideo rang in my ears again. If Bethany really was missing and the scream belonged to her…No. It was all just a misunderstanding. It had to be. Beefany was more than capable of taking care of herself.

  My phone buzzed on my desk and I jumped. I had one new message from an unknown number, making my stomach muscles heave.

  I closed my eyes for a second. If I opened the message, there would be no turning back. I’d be in. But if my finger slipped and hit Delete, it’s not like things would go back to normal. Another text would come, or someone would show up at my house, or I’d start seeing people who weren’t really there or getting emails from Grace. For whatever reason, I was involved.

  My eyes opened and I clicked the message. I’d deal with whatever this was—for better or for worse.

  For worse.

  It was a picture of Bethany, her eyes wild, her mouth gagged.

  End the Sisterhood, or lose another.

  In that instant, a few things became clear as day despite my foggy brain.

  Bethany could not take care of herself. What happened to Grace could happen to another girl. I had the power to stop it from happening. And more than anything else, I was going to need help.

  Chapter 10

  Unlike 99 percent of kids my age, I didn’t have to be dragged out of bed that Sunday morning. I’d spent what was left of the night watching the numbers on my clock dissolve into each other, waiting for a new day that I hoped would bring me answers. After packing my bag, I fabricated a class project and managed to score a ride to the library with my dad. There was only one person who would know how to handle a text with a picture of a missing girl and a ransom demand of ending a secret society, and that was Ms. D. (Officer D. if you pissed her off.)

  Station 9, the PB library, was my favorite building on campus and like the clock tower was featured as one of Pemberly Brown’s most notable landmarks. The gigantic, repurposed Tudor mansion had been built for Pemberly’s original headmistress and featured all sorts of hidden passageways and secret nooks. Ivy blanketed the surface, even in the winter months, and the building stood proud at the highest point on campus. Since it was the only building open twenty-four hours a day, a constant stream of kids trickled through the front doors at any given hour. Most were armed with heavy bags stuffed with actual work and what I considered the luxury of being able to tell their parents the truth.

  Two years ago, I might have walked in their shoes, but as I waved good-bye to my dad, I realized I’d never again be one of those kids. The kind who could look their parents in the eye and tell them exactly what they were doing, where they were going. Well, at least not until I dealt with the warring societies that seemed determined to destroy my life.

  Ms. D. was not at her normal post reading the morning paper, and the quiet was unsettling as I breezed through the door. Normally she’d make a joke without looking up, welcoming me as if she’d been waiting all morning for the moment I’d arrive. Today, the silence just added to the already cavernous pit in the bottom of my stomach. I craned my neck to peer through the hallway back to her personal office and saw Ms. D. rubbing at her eyes, her glasses resting on the desk in front of her. It looked like she’d had just as long a night as me.

  A former PB history teacher, Ms. D. was now in charge of campus security. She was what my mom referred to as “big boned,” and although she was in her late sixties, she still beat most of the boys on campus in the annual arm-wrestling matches at the end of every school year. She also happened to be an alumna of the Sisterhood. Unfortunately now that Headmaster Sinclair, one of the Brotherhood’s more dickish alumni, was running the show at Pemberly Brown, she was demoted to night watchwoman. It was bullshit, obviously. But Ms. D. stuck around to keep an eye on the girls.

  In the past, things had been pretty even, with the Sisterhood controlling the tunnels and all of the priceless information in the headquarters while the Brotherhood controlled the school administration via Headmaster Sinclair. But now that the Brotherhood had taken over everything, the balance of power was heavily weighted in the Brotherhood’s favor, and if their most recent exploits were any indication, they were getting reckless.

  I pushed around the front desk and spilled into her office. “Ms. D., I’ve got to talk to you. It’s happening aga…” The words died on my lips the second I realized we weren’t alone.

  Ms. D. raked a hand through her closely cropped gray hair and shook her head briskly. “Kate, you know Taylor Wright.” The girl standing in front of the huge desk whirled around. The first thing I noticed was that she wasn’t perfect. I realize that doesn’t sound like groundbreaking information, but it kind of was for Taylor Wright. Taylor was queen bitch of Pemberly Brown, the reigning princess of perfection. Her nails were always manicured in an understated ballet-slipper pink, her lips always glossed, her clothing pristine.

  But today Taylor
’s shirt was rumpled as though it’d been pulled from the bottom of the laundry bin or even slept in. Her white-blond hair appeared tangled, and tiny crescents of purple ringed her bloodshot eyes.

  “What the hell…” I said, my brows pulled together, eyes narrowed.

  “Before you begin streaming vulgarities, you need to understand that something awful has happened.” Taylor cut me off, her soft voice enunciating every syllable like a stage actor. I think that was the most consecutive words she’d ever said to me. The princess of perfection preferred to maintain an icy indifference to her subjects, and that didn’t involve a whole lot of small talk.

  “Now, now, Taylor. Slow down. There’s no reason to drag Kate into this. She’s not in the Sisterhood and we can’t risk—”

  “What risk exactly? The risk of expulsion to save my best friend’s life? She was there too that night, Dorothy. She heard Alistair’s threat. He said he was going to kill her.” Taylor’s voice was hysterical, and all at once I realized that I wasn’t the only one who’d gotten that picture last night.

  I grabbed my phone from my pocket and pulled up the picture. I held the phone out so Taylor and Ms. D. could see it.

  “Bethany,” I whispered.

  Ms. D. sighed and the chair squeaked beneath her as she sank deeper in. Taylor’s face lit up. “They sent it to you too. You are already involved. If we confront them together, they will have to listen. They will have to—”

  Apparently it was Ms. D.’s turn to interrupt. She lifted her hand to silence Taylor. Remarkably, it worked. In that moment, I had a whole new respect for Ms. D. I mean, I always knew she was a badass, but I had no idea she was capable of controlling the Taylor Wright. To be perfectly honest, up until that moment, I never realized Taylor could be controlled.

  “Now, if I’m understanding this properly, you two were both on campus after hours participating in the very secret ceremonies that the school board president discussed at Grace’s memorial.”

  Taylor and I nodded mutely.

  “And it appears that Bethany was abducted by the Brotherhood at one of these events.”

  We nodded again.

  “As I’m sure you can both imagine, nothing would make the administration of this school happier than making an example out of students who disobey their new rule. And no one would make a better example than the two of you. Kate, you practically have a target tattooed on your forehead.” I considered my pink hair and bumpy history, especially with Headmaster Sinclair, and knew she was right.

  “And Taylor…” Ms. D. put her glasses back on and turned in her seat. “You are a leader in this school, so in their mind, publicly disciplining you for participating in unsanctioned after-hours activities would pretty much guarantee no student would disobey their rules again.” Ms. D. shook her head and turned back to her computer. “The alternative is giving the Brotherhood what they want and dismantling the Sisterhood for good.” Ms. D. looked at Taylor and shook her head. “I think we can all agree that this isn’t an option.”

  “But why not? What do you really have to lose?” I couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out of my mouth. The only thing Ms. D. and I ever disagreed on was the Sisterhood. She wanted me to join. To become one of the girls who protected the legacy of Sisterhood that the founders of Pemberly had established all those years ago.

  After everything with Grace, Taylor had issued a standing invitation for me to join. And most girls would have jumped at the chance. On top of being the most popular girls in school, the Sisterhood had access to information and a powerful alumnae network that could pull unimaginable strings. They never failed a test because they always had the answers beforehand, and none of them ever got rejected from colleges or clubs because there was always someone to make sure they got in.

  Being a Sister gave you complete access to pretty much anything you could ever want.

  But none of that mattered. Not when I remembered the role they had played in Grace’s death.

  “That is never going to happen, Kate. Never.” Taylor’s voice was barely above a whisper, but somehow her words still managed to scare me a little. When it came to the Sisterhood, Taylor was like a terrorist—willing to die for the cause.

  Ms. D. nodded briskly. “You’re going to have to let me handle this, girls.” She said the words as she typed into the system. “Hmm,” she said, “I see they’re already one step ahead of us. Bethany has an excused absence all week, supposedly called in by her parents.”

  “Impossible! Her parents are in Europe. It was forged by the Brotherhood. Obviously.” Taylor’s voice was steeped in frustration as she rose out of her seat, both hands on the desk for leverage.

  “No, no, it’s actually better this way. The less the school administration knows about this, the better. I’ll have to go directly to the headmaster and tell him what his boys have been up to. Hopefully the security footage from that night will convince him it’s in his best interest to force them to cooperate. We’ll get her home.”

  I sagged with relief. Ms. D. had everything under control. I knew she’d know exactly what to do. Unfortunately, Taylor hadn’t taken the news quite as well. She looked positively manic.

  “Are you crazy? They have stolen my best friend. She has been tied up in a chair or locked in one of their disgusting closets, and you expect me to just sit tight while you negotiate with Sinclair? We have to find her before they make good on their threat.” It was the first time I ever remembered not having to strain to hear exactly what she was saying, Taylor’s stilted words dominating the small room.

  Ms. D. appeared unfazed by Taylor’s diatribe. “These are teenage boys we’re dealing with here, Taylor. Not serial killers. Certainly accidents have happened in the past.” Ms. D. shot me an uneasy look. “But I’m confident they mean Bethany no harm. This is just more of their antics and games. I will figure out a way to get Bethany home safely without you two getting expelled.”

  An ironic “Amen, sister” was on the tip of my tongue, but I snapped my mouth shut when I saw the look on Taylor’s face. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears. Her hands shook and her lower lip quivered. But it was the tremor in her voice that got me. “I have to save her. You do not understand. This is my fault, and I need to save her.”

  Oh God, I knew that tremor. I’d heard it in my own voice the night I lost Grace. And then I thought of the look on Grace’s parents’ faces at the memorial. I thought about the way her handwriting had looked in her favorite book, begging to be remembered. I thought about how much she’d loved this stupid jacket I was wearing.

  And in that moment, as much as I hated to admit it, I realized that Taylor was right. The Brotherhood had taken another victim, and we had to at least try to find her. This was my first chance to finish what the Brotherhood had started a year and a half ago. My first chance to put things right.

  “Thanks for taking care of this, Ms. D. Keep me posted.” I kept my tone light and did my best to ignore the shock and grief on Taylor’s face as I walked back toward the library.

  “Kate, wait,” Taylor said, rushing out of Ms. D.’s office after me. I could barely turn around. It’s not that we were on bad terms. I had to admit, after everything that had happened with Taylor in the fall, I didn’t really hate her anymore. But we lived in two different worlds, and it was easier when we kept our distance.

  “You heard Ms. D. She’s got it under control.” I said the words but didn’t believe them for one second.

  “It is just that if anyone would understand, it is you.”

  You don’t say.

  “Look, Taylor, I’ll let you know if I get any more messages. I have to go.”

  I left her standing outside the library, tears streaming down her cheeks, and felt a quick stab of remorse, but I was already planning my next move. Bethany’s house. Stat. Taylor would only slow me down, and something told me time was of the essence.

  Chapter 11

  As I pulled up Bethany’s contact information on Amicus and plugged her ad
dress into my phone, a call came in from Liam. The second I saw his name, my stomach dropped. I was supposed to meet him at Jack’s Deli for breakfast. Crap. Crap. Crap.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said without even saying hello. “I have this project and I forgot to call and, oh, Liam, I’m sorry.” Liam and I had an unofficial breakfast date every Sunday morning—the kind you know will happen without even having to ask, because he always pulls up in his Jeep at the same time, with the same smile, headed in the same direction. To make matters five million times worse, he had even unofficially reminded me last night. I was the worst.

  “I get it. You forgot. It’s not a big deal. The streak was bound to be broken.”

  Burned.

  “I officially suck.” I pulled the phone away from my ear to catch a quick glimpse of the map and continued down Marchmont. If only Liam knew exactly how much I sucked.

  “You’re not all bad,” Liam said, and I could hear the smile in his voice.

  Forgiven.

  “Plus, there’s always lunch. Are you still on campus? I’ll pick you up.”

  My first reaction was to duck, crouch behind the closest bush, fall to the ground on my belly, and army crawl to cover. I looked around frantically, as if thinking Liam might catch me in my lie and dump me immediately. “Um, I’m actually nowhere near being finished.” I scoured my brain for an excuse to end the phone call as soon as humanly possible. “But I’ll call you when I’m done, okay?”

  Please say okay, please say okay, please say okay.

  “Um…okay,” Liam agreed in a halting voice, but I knew him well enough to know he didn’t really agree at all.

  We hung up just as I approached Beef…er, Bethany’s front door. It didn’t quite feel right referring to her by her nickname when she was actively missing. Once she was safe, maybe. I rang the doorbell even though I felt pretty sure no one would answer. Taylor had said Bethany’s parents were out of town, and if Bethany really was missing, I assumed she wouldn’t be darting to open the door anytime soon. But still I waited, because I hadn’t really planned past ringing the doorbell.