Chapter 14 Strange Things About Sally
Oliver glanced back, a faint smile tugging his lips. “Oh… Double L. How long have you been there?”
“Not long. I wasn’t expecting you to be here.”
“I come here a lot,” he said, leaning back, eyes on the ballerina. “For… entertainment, maybe.”
The dancer missed a turn, stumbled, then caught herself, determined.
“What are you here for?” he asked. “Sally’s return?”
That was why I came, but the question I asked instead slipped out differently. “Why didn’t your mother come to the station?”
He smirked faintly. “Do I have one?”
I frowned. “The woman who took you home back in kindergarten…”
“That woman wasn’t my mother,” he said quietly. “She was my mother’s friend. She took in to protect me from my stepfather… but she’s gone now.”
“I…” I couldn’t finish.
“My mother remarried after my father’s accident,” he continued, voice hollow. “We lost everything, his family took it all. She married a rich man to survive. We lived in Santos for years, far from Gravenmoor. That man never knew I attended kindergarten in Gravenmoor.”
His voice almost trembled, but he didn’t stop.
“He treated us like we were less than human. My mother’s friend, Samanta, took me in. My mom stayed… and I never saw her again. Probably dead.”
Tears slipped down my cheeks.
“Why did you leave Brimstone High?” I asked softly.
He smiled through the pain, a broken smile. “Because Samanta was killed. She gave me my mother’s trust fund wallet, containing man’s money and told me to run. He came for her too. I didn't realize till she was shot… right in front of me.” His voice stayed steady. “I ran. That’s how I ended up here, in Gravenmoor. Trying to start over.”
I touched my cheek, realizing it was wet.
He met my eyes and let out a small laugh. “Don’t cry. I’ve been lonely all my life.”
“You went through all that… and you still act like nothing’s wrong,” I said, voice shaking.
He turned toward the stage. The ballerina bowed, finished with her dance, the piano’s final note echoing.
He smiled faintly. “Life goes on.”
Sally’s back.
And just like that, my chances of joining the Student Council vanished into dust.
My original plan was simple: sneak into the council hall, and get the Daylight ring. But now the place is heavily guarded and locked with tight security. Only the high ranking members, like Kaitlyn, Naomi, and Evander have the card key to open the tall iron door… or perhaps her sister does, too.
But there’s something wrong with Sally.
Since her return, she hasn’t been the same. I don’t know if anyone else noticed, but I’ve been watching her closely, like Julian’s been watching me, protecting his own secret.
I stood beside the marble statue in the school’s dim hall, its cold shadow cast across my shoes, watching Kaitlyn, Evander, Naomi, and Sally move out of the council chamber. Their footsteps echoed like whispers. I trailed them quietly, studying every motion.
“What’s up with her?” I murmured under my breath.
“Finally found a way into the Student Council hall, haven’t you?”
I froze. The voice came from behind the statue.
Julian stepped out of the darkness, half his face lit by the pale chandelier light, the other lost to shadow. “Do you always stalk people like that?” I asked, turning back to watch the walking. “What are you staring at?” He asked, folding his arms as if this were amusing.
I ignored him, my gaze locked on the group ascending the grand staircase. Kaitlyn and the others spoke in hushed tones, but Sally… Sally didn’t move. She followed completely still, unblinking, detached from everything around her.
Julian followed my stare. “You’re among those crushing on that Evander boy, huh?”
I shot him a glare. “Ew. Gross. I’m just… watching.”
“Who?”
“Sally. She’s been strange since she came back.”
Julian exhaled, the sound almost a growl. “I didn’t ask for detective work, Lexie. Just get in the student council.”
“All slots are taken,” I snapped. “How exactly do you want me to do that?”
He gave a small, sinister shrug. “It’s simple.”
I raised an eyebrow, “How?” I asked
“Kill her, and bury her body under a tree,” he replied.
“Crazy old vampire,” I muttered, brushing past him and walking away.
Even in class, I couldn’t stop watching Sally. She sat by the window, her posture rigid, her books closed. Her head stayed perfectly straight, her eyes fixed downward. She didn’t blink. Didn’t move. Even the flies circling her desk didn’t stir a reaction.
When others scribbled notes, she simply… sat there. Silent. Still.
Even Professor Ashcroft, who noticed everything, ignored her. Or maybe… he chose not to.
“Lambert!”
The professor’s voice cut through my thoughts like a blade. I jerked upright, meeting his cold, precise stare.
He clasped his hands behind his back. “From the poem we just read, what do you think Robert Frost means by ‘The woods are lovely, dark and deep’?”
He always did this, calling me the moment my mind wandered.
“I, uh…” My throat felt dry. “I mean he thinks… no, he means the woods look calm and peaceful… but…”
I glanced around, hoping someone… anyone, would jump in to save me. But Julian wasn’t in class. His usual voice of reason, gone. The others stared blankly. No brainy to answer this one.
“Would anyone like to help Miss Lambert out?” Professor Ashcroft asked, eyes sweeping the room.
Silence. Only the creak of wooden chairs and the faint hum of the old chandelier.
Poems are confusing. They twist the mind and whisper things you can’t explain.
No one raised their hand for a moment. Then—
“Yes, Oliver,” Professor Ashcroft said.
I turned and saw Oliver rise from his seat behind me. His voice carried calm confidence as he answered, “The line reflects the poet’s temptation to escape into nature’s beauty and darkness, symbolizing rest, or even death and yet he knows he must resist and return to his duties.”
Wow. That was impressive, and surprising…
Well, maybe not. Oliver’s always been a bookworm, but I never knew he was that good with poetry.
“Excellent, Oliver,” Professor Ashcroft said with an approving nod, then turned his piercing gaze on me. “Lambert.”
My breath caught as I stood.
“Why do you find my class so distracting?” His tone was sharp, his expression unreadable.