Chapter 12

By the time everyone’s nosebleed had stopped, it was lunchtime. The girls reconvened outside the infirmary.

“I want to put my bag away. Let’s all meet by the stairs, then go to lunch,” Ophelia said.

“We’re not done with this conversation,” Kayley grumbled. “I still think we should tell someone.”

Borrowing Kayley’s move, Ophelia rolled her eyes. “We’ll talk more about it at lunch.”

When Madeleine got back to her room, she crawled into bed without even taking off her shoes. She was so tired. All she wanted to do was sleep.

But the shriek from Ophelia’s room brought her out of her sleepy reverie.

She ran to Ophelia’s room and barged in without knocking. Ophelia’s face was stark white as she stared at her dressing table. On top of it sat five dolls that looked a little like each of the girls. Each of them had pins stuck right in their hearts. Bloodred smears surrounded the pins.

Madeleine put her hand to her mouth. Just then, Kayley, Emma, and Sophie came to the room and knocked into her. She heard each of them gasp, in turn.

Emma whispered, “Is that blood?”

“I don’t want to find out,” Sophie said.

Kayley looked at Ophelia. “Now do we tell someone?”

Ophelia, face still pale, turned slowly toward her. “Yeah, I think now we tell someone.”

It was the right thing to do, Madeleine thought. But her heart sunk. Admitting she had broken curfew meant the end of her scholarship. And maybe worse, the end of her new friendships. But somebody could get hurt. and that somebody could be one of the very friends she was afraid of losing.

“Let’s go,” she said.

Madeleine had never been inside Madame Puant’s office, and she was amazed by the sheer grandness of the whole place. Red velvety carpet blanketed the floor, like the hallway’s, only nicer, and Madame’s desk was made of a dark, ornately carved wood. Madeleine could see cherubs and trees and nymphs …

But all of that fled from her mind as Ophelia began to explain why they’d all come.

Goodbye, Dario Quincy Academy … , Madeleine thought.

She looked at the ground while Ophelia finished. The quiet seemed to stretch for minutes. Madeleine started fidgeting. She just wished Madame would expel them and be done with it. And, of course, get rid of the cult.

Finally, Madame Puant said, “So, let me get this straight. The five of you found some secret tunnels under the school. And then found a room where a circle of hooded figures stood chanting around an altar—an altar filled with your stolen trinkets—and then they chased you down a stone tunnel? And today you all had nosebleeds at the exact same time, and five bloody children’s dolls appeared on your dressing table? Is this what you’re telling me? Ophelia?”

When Madame said it like that, it sounded ridiculous, Madeleine thought. She could hear the doubt in Ophelia’s voice too: “I know it sounds crazy, Madame, but …”

Madame cut her off with a wave of her hand. “It doesn’t sound crazy, Ophelia.”

Madeleine found the strength to look up. Maybe Madame did believe them, after all.

Madame went on, “It sounds like a desperate ploy to either get attention or to get out of class or the hysterical rantings of five girls who talked themselves into something ridiculous.” She trained her eyes on Madeleine. “I thought you’d be better than this, Madeleine. You are an exemplary student and this … well, this is just absurd.”

Madeleine’s face turned hot with shame. But it quickly cooled as she asked herself, what about the dolls?

“Madame,” she said excitedly, “We have proof. You mentioned it yourself—the dolls! Come look!”

The girls all nodded excitedly.

“Very well,” Madame said. “Let’s have a look at these dolls. Though I’m inclined to believe you constructed them yourself too. But—I’ll humor you.”

Madeleine felt excitement rippling in her stomach as they walked to Ophelia’s room. Earlier, she had wanted nothing more than to not tell Madame. Now, she was desperate for Madame to believe them.

Ophelia opened her door with a flourish. Only a “ta-da!” was missing. For a second, Madeleine had to fight the urge to giggle.

But when they stepped into the room, there was no reason to laugh. The dolls were gone.

Madeleine’s jaw dropped. “Madame, I swear they were here!”

Madame glared at each girl in turn. “You have wasted my time and the time of this academy. You are banned from class for the rest of the week. Maybe you can use that time to think about the ramifications of making up stories!”

She turned on her heel to exit, and Ophelia said to her retreating back, “Wait! We’ll show you tonight! At midnight!” But Madame disappeared before Ophelia could finish.

Ophelia slumped on her bed and put her head in her hands. The other girls flopped on the floor.

Madeleine was shocked—they couldn’t go to class for a whole week. A day hadn’t gone by where she hadn’t been in a studio since she was three years old. Not one day. Even when she’d gotten an injury, she’d gone to the studio to watch the others.

Even so, Madeleine was relieved. They hadn’t been kicked out.

“You guys, this sucks,” she said. “But—we didn’t get kicked out.”

Kayley, Sophie, and Emma nodded their heads. Ophelia continued to stare at the dressing table. Finally, she spoke. “Listen, I know what we saw. We just need proof, that’s all.”

Sophie looked up glumly. “How are we going to do that? Why didn’t we take the dolls with us? That was so dumb.”

Ophelia nodded. “It was dumb. And it was dumb not to take pictures or video last night. Which is why we’re going back tonight.”