I deliberately left for school a little earlier the next morning so that I would have time to see Ms. Ross before classes began. I didn’t want to lose my nerve, and I had promised my parents that I would take care of it right away.

I hadn’t slept well again. No specific nightmares this time, but I was restless and awoke with that vague sense of wrongness that I’d felt before when I was at odds with my parents over something. I knew it was my conversation with Michael that was making me feel so off today. We had never really had a disagreement that we hadn’t resolved almost immediately, and the feeling of being slightly off-kilter lingered with me.

The school office was much quieter this morning, and when I asked if Ms. Ross was in, the secretary waved me toward her door. The guidance counselor was sitting at her desk, much the way I had left her the previous day. She was absorbed in something on her computer and didn’t see me until I knocked softly on the door jam.

“Oh! Miss Vaughn, right? What can I do for you?” She was brisk but not unfriendly. Didn’t I take care of everything with her yesterday?

I hurried to my point. “I’m sorry to bother you again, but after I thought about it, I decided I’d really rather take an elective in fourth period, instead of the independent study. Can we change that?”

Her manner and her thoughts turned decidedly frostier. “I thought we had that all straightened out. Why did you change your mind?”

I wanted to tell her that it was none of her business, but instead I invoked the parent clause.

“My father and mother think it would be better for me to have an elective.”

Ms. Ross sighed. She wanted to argue, I could hear that clearly in her head, but she decided it wasn’t worth taking on my parents. As if I don’t have enough to do, I heard her think crossly.

“Fine. Which elective do you want to take?”

“I was thinking home economics,” I replied meekly. She typed something on her keyboard, waited a moment, then frowned at the screen.

“Home ec is filled that period. We have to keep that to a small class because of the nature of the subject.” She clicked a few more keys, then scrolled down a page. “Wood shop has a few openings.”

Inwardly I groaned. I could handle some baking, sewing and child care projects, but saws and sanders were a different matter entirely. Ms. Ross was looking at me expectantly, waiting for my answer.

“Okay,” I sighed. “Wood shop will be fine. Thanks.”

I left Ms. Ross’s office with an amended schedule, an add form for the wood shop teacher to sign and the overwhelming sense that she thought I was making the wrong decision.

I questioned it myself in fourth period. The class was filled with boys, mostly freshmen and sophomores. There were two other girls, both of whom gazed at me with frank suspicion. Since I had worn open-toed shoes, I wasn’t permitted to work on any of the machines. The teacher reminded me that only safe shoes were allowed in his class and handed me a book of woodshop projects so that I could choose what I wanted to make this year. Glumly I flipped through the pages until he dismissed us a few moments before the bell rang.

I rounded the corner, heading for my locker and wondering how I was going to get through a year of woodshop.

“Tasmyn.”

I stopped abruptly and turned in the direction of the voice, trepidation making my heart beat erratically. Ms. Lacusta stood in the shadowed doorway of a nearby empty classroom.

Before I could answer her or even think, she beckoned me. “I wondered if I could have just a minute of your time.”

Torn, I looked around the nearly empty walkway. The bell would ring shortly, and throngs of students would fill the outside corridor. But at the moment I felt very alone and vulnerable.

I felt her amusement and knew I was easily read. “I promise you, I intend no harm. I only want to... talk with you.”

I moved slowly and reluctantly toward her. “Okay. What... what do you need?”

Ms. Lacusta’s laugh was low and ironic. “Oh, I don’t need anything, Miss Vaughn. It’s what you need, actually.”

When I only gazed at her blankly, she proceeded. “I was very disappointed to learn today that you’d changed your mind about our independent study. I was so looking forward to working with you, one-on-one.”

I dropped my eyes to the sidewalk. “My parents thought an elective would be a better idea for me.”

“Woodshop? Come now, Miss Vaughn, there’s no need to play games. We both know why your parents don’t want you to learn from me. They’ve been deceived by the lies of others.”

“I don’t think so,” I countered. “What we know is the truth.”

Her eyes widened. “I cannot believe that you would be so easily taken in by those wild stories. I’m merely a teacher, Tasmyn. Sharing knowledge is my life, and it gives me great joy to instill that knowledge in the lives of young people, like you. Girls, particularly those who are... disturbed, shall we say, have a tendency to invent stories that make their own actions more palatable. You must learn to be more discerning.”

As she spoke, I was trying to hear her thoughts. As usual, though, all I could hear was a low humming, with an occasional breakthrough of a foreign word or two.

Frowning, I answered her spoken words. “I think I’m a pretty good judge of character, and what you led Nell to do was horrible. And then you let her take all the blame. She’s locked away, and you bear more than a little responsibility for that.”

Ms. Lacusta waved a hand between us. “That isn’t true, Tasmyn. I was not in that clearing, and I never would have encouraged Nell to dabble in such things.” She shook her head, both sadly and vehemently. “But that isn’t important now, and we don’t have much time.

“Tasmyn, I want you to take my independent study course. It is very important to me, and I believe it is a much better choice for you than wood shop. I am asking you to change your mind.”

I shook my head. “Even if you could convince me, my parents have already told me no, and you’re not going to change their minds.”

A smile played around her lips, and I felt again that familiar, serpentine fog that I always picked up when she was nearby. A chill ran down my back.

“I think perhaps I can convince you, Miss Vaughn. I think that we all have certain things that we’d rather not share about ourselves. What is the phrase, ‘skeletons in the closet’? You’ve mentioned what you think I’m hiding, but you are not so anxious to discuss your own secrets, are you?”

A flush crept over my face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do. We both know it. You have certain talents, don’t you, Miss Vaughn? Certain abilities that you are quite—oh, shall we say, motivated—to hide from the world?”

Now my heart was pounding. I had feared that Ms. Lacusta suspected my secret, but now I knew it.

“You don’t have to say anything. And if you would like me to continue to keep my own counsel, I think perhaps you should reconsider your choice of fourth period class.”

“But—but—Ms. Ross—and my parents... ” I stammered. My mind was still spinning at the realization that my science teacher was blackmailing me into taking her class.

She smiled again. “I’ll take care of Ms. Ross. She will pleased to hear that you’ve come to this decision. And as for your parents, well... ” Her smile widened, and it was more alarming than ever. “You’re old enough to make these choices on your own. Certainly, for their own protection, I think your parents could remain in blissful ignorance, don’t you agree?”

“Their own protection?” I whispered. Was she threatening my parents now?

“I simply mean protection from the inevitable heartbreak of seeing their only child exposed and exploited for her extraordinary gifts. Your parents have gone to a good deal of trouble to make sure your talents remain hidden, haven’t they? I’m sure you wouldn’t want to see all their hard work undone.”

“I don’t lie to my parents.” This was a simple statement of fact.

Ms. Lacusta laughed. “So you’re saying that your mother and father knew and approved of your following Nell into that clearing not once, but twice? I find that very hard to believe. If you can justify hiding that, I am sure that you can do the same with our little secret. And this time, no one will get hurt and they need never be the wiser. Ms. Ross understands about these things, and she can make sure that your report cards will still show wood shop.”

Dizzily I leaned against the doorway. Ms. Lacusta’s knowledge and influence were much more extensive than I’d anticipated. If she could coerce Ms. Ross into falsifying my report cards, she obviously had more power than I’d thought.

And she wasn’t wrong about my parents and what I’d hidden from them last year. Since my last encounter with Nell, I’d promised to be completely open, and I’d kept that vow. But she was also right that my mother and father feared that the world would discover my gift. I would do almost anything to protect them from that.

The bell rang shrilly, and Ms. Lacusta tilted her head at me questioningly.

Defeated, I closed my eyes and nodded.