I awakened well before dawn. A voice soothed a whining child in the next room over. Miss Miller must have been roused by one of her charges in the Infant dormitory.
My arm tingled as I pulled it out from under Adèle. Despite the movement, she didn’t wake up. That was fine; she still had time to sleep. I climbed out of bed and hurried behind the modesty screen to dress. Remembering how God told Jeremiah to gird his loins before meeting his enemies, I spent extra time neatening my hair and pinched a bit of color into my cheeks. The swelling in my eye provided its own rainbow hues, but that could not be helped. As the sun began to chase away the dark, a mockingbird sang outside our window, his song so glorious that my spirits lifted despite how little sleep I’d gotten the night before.
I folded my nightclothes, putting these articles and the rest of my things back into the empty pillow casing, to make it easy to leave. Although I moved quietly, my industry awakened Adèle from her slumber. Rubbing sleep from her eyes, she blinked twice and stared at me, squinting.
“Mademoiselle! C’est vraiment vous?” She bounced upright in the bed and nearly shouted with joy, her childlike voice speaking in rapid French.
I knelt by her side and hugged her tightly. She smelled of warmth, sleep, and the faintly sour odor of childish sweat. “Shh, darling child. Don’t wake the others. Not yet!” I said in her native language.
“You did come! You did!” She burrowed her head against me. “I thought it was a dream!”
I brushed aside her tousled locks so that I could look her in the eyes. “Listen to me. This is important. Very important.”
“La,” she said. “You are here. That is what is important. I must tell my friends. Girls—”
“Shh! Not yet. We must talk first. You must answer me as honestly as you can.”
Who had threatened her? I needed to know before I confronted Maude Thurston with the note. Did the threat to Adèle play a part in Selina’s death? Were both girls targeted by a killer? If I could discover this before we took our leave of Alderton House, I could pass the information on to Mr. Douglas. I would have secured justice for Adèle and done the other girls a service.
“Mr. Rochester and I received your letter. You had written au secours on it. Why did you ask for help? What prompted your request?”
“I wanted him to come for me! I am so unhappy here! Mrs. Webster was kind, but Mrs. Thurston does not like me! She makes me write Bible verses because I twirl and dance and sing like my mama did.”
“I see. And the other teachers? Are they kind to you?” I needed to get at the threatening note, but the roundabout way often worked best with Adèle. Besides, I couldn’t risk her being frightened. That might cause her to expose me and, therefore, to endanger all her friends. I would start with a general summary of the atmosphere.
“They are all awful! Miss Miller is a rainy cloud. All the time, sad and dreary, but she is not mean,” Adèle said. “Signora Delgatto stamps her foot when I don’t pay attention. She smacked my fingers with a ruler. But one time only. Fräulein Hertzog is gone; she was not here for long, but I miss her because she could speak French as fast as I do.”
“When did Fräulein Hertzog leave?” I wondered if it was possible that, for some reason unknown, she had written the threat to Adèle.
“A month ago. And Miss Jones smiles all the time, even when she is angry. That makes her very dangerous, I believe.”
“How about the servants?”
“Cook is ever so nice. She knows I miss croissants, and she sometimes buys them for me when she goes to market. She says that even though I am a Frenchie, I am a luv. Emma does not talk much to any of us.”
I imagined not. From what I had seen, the maid of all work toiled unceasingly. In fact, I wondered if the girl got more than four hours of sleep a night. Although such servants were common in private households, only a cheapskate like Mrs. Thurston would expect one small girl to clean, polish, mend, and serve an entire school population.
“And Caje? Is that not the name of the young man who works here? How does he act toward you?”
“He does not like to talk.”
“And the other students?”
“I like most of the Juniors. With the Seniors, well, Selina, she told everyone what to do. She decided if the Seniors would be mean. Or nice. They were all scared of her. I do not care. Not much.”
“How are they mean?” I asked, wondering what a ten-year-old girl considered cruel.
“They tease and they pinch and they tell tales.”
“All of them? All of the time?”
She considered this. “No. Comme ci comme ça. It might be different now. Sometimes Rufina is bossy. Sometimes Nettie is a big crybaby. Rose pushes me out of the way. She wants everyone to look at her, all the time.”
“How did Selina act toward you?”
“Bah, she was the worst. Always calling me names. Always teasing me and pulling my hair.” She stopped a minute and thought. I did not interrupt. “Now they might be nicer. Truly they might.”
“Was she unkind to only you?”
“No. To all of us. To everyone. All of us girls. And to Emma. And to Caje. She teased and she hit us and she stole—” Adèle’s voice became louder as she warmed to her subject.
“Shhh,” I warned my little friend. Rufina sat up on one elbow, rubbed her eyes, looked around without really focusing, and lay back down, pulling her covers over her head.
“But Mrs. Thurston liked Selina best. So she could do anything she wanted. Anything!” With that, Adèle realized, “But she is gone, is she not? She is dead!”
I took her hands in mine. “Yes. She is dead. Let us pray that her soul rests in peace.”
“But it doesn’t! I know it won’t! She will come back to haunt us! She will sneak around and grab us when we sleep! That’s what she will do! I know it!”
Adèle started to sob.